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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25954423">The 17 Months That Never Were.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmasfrost/pseuds/emmasfrost'>emmasfrost</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>All New X-Factor, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anxf treated them all so well, M/M, current x books are eh, idk when I’ll update, other characters to be added - Freeform, so its back to 2014</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:06:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>29,079</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25954423</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmasfrost/pseuds/emmasfrost</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>To begin with Pietro Maximoff despised Remy LeBeau. </p>
<p>But that was to begin with.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Remy LeBeau/Pietro Maximoff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Truce.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>To begin with Pietro Maximoff despised Remy LeBeau. </strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The man was arrogant beyond measure &amp; seemingly existed just to annoy and disgruntle Pietro. The two would bicker about the smallest of inconveniences and pick at anything the other says or does <strong> <em>just</em> </strong> to start an argument. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>This had driven Lorna mad to the point that she ended up sending them off on their own mission. Apparently, a serial murderer who liked to torture &amp; kill mutants was on the loose and they were expendable to deal with them. To say the both of them weren’t as eager to find the asshole as irritated in one another’s company was an understatement. <strong>A really big understatement.</strong></p>
<p> </p>
<p>The two ended up in an abandoned apartment building, the structure chipping away like decaying bones. Floorboards creaked as they walked through long corridors and LeBeau just couldn’t <em>shut up.</em> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’d tell yo’ t’ run but then yo’ would fall through de floor an’ dat’ would mean Lorna would kill Remy an’ he don’t like dat’ prospect.” The X-Man lightly taunts with his specific accent knowing that the speedster would react in some kind of entertainment for the taller man. Pietro merely scoffs, shining a torch around hidden corners. “I don’t know whether you’re just blinded from observation or simply <em>stupid</em> but I’d be too fast to fall through the floor.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Remy chuckles lowly, shaking his head. “I’ve seen yo’ fall through floors before–“</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<strong>And</strong> it always makes me a hidden threat.” Pietro murmurs back, facing away from his teammate. The Cajun raises an eyebrow, “Yo’ sayin’ dat’ yo’ on purposely fallen through da floors?” The other man nods, “They wouldn’t expect me to come back up and have stopped whatever they had planned. I’m a speedster after all; I never fall.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So yo’ are a cat?” Remy remarks, looking in amusement at him. Pietro grumbles, “What is it with you and cats….”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Aw come on, Pi, surely yo’ like cats hm? They sure ta put up with yo’ more than humans.” Gambit comes out with. Pietro frowns to himself, familiar scars &amp; memories unearthing to the centre of his mind. “No. I don’t.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fair enough.” Remy gives in. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The two continue through the everlasting halls and Pietro is about to express concerns of them going in circles when noises rust &amp; clang beside them. Both X-Factor members pause in their trail eyeing each other for an answer. Pietro’s eyes pull away from Remy’s &amp; instead lay upon an elevator. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He looks at Remy expectantly making the man smirk. “Got ta’ say please.” Pietro laughs sharply, shaking his head. “<em>Yeah</em>, No.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Come onn.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Blow it open.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Remy needs t’ hear de magic words.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Blow the damn doors open!” Pietro shouts shortly, Remy’s jeering smile dropping. “..Alrigh’ alrigh’..” The man says with a shrug. Pulling out a card, he quickly sets it off flinging it to the dismantling metal &amp; letting it collapse in with a hard clang. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“After you,” Remy dallys in amusement. Pietro shakes his head &amp; rolls his eyes, climbing inside the elevator shaft. The older male follows, the two moving to balance on top of the lift. “Yo’ think de guy could be inside?” Remy asks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He could be, <strong>or</strong>, somebody might be hurt in there.” Pietro suggests. The Cajun nods, lifting the lid of the lift off. He stares at the speedster expectantly; Pietro scoffs. “Now why am I going in?” </p>
<p>“Cus’ yo’ are smaller.” Remy shrugs. </p>
<p>“I’m a runner- someone not to be contained.” The silver haired mutant argues. The other man simply shrugs, motioning to the elevator. “Yo’ said dat’ yo’ can’t ever fall, test it out then, <em>mon chat</em>.” </p>
<p>Sighing in defeat, Pietro climbs within the lift &amp; shines the torch inside, scanning as much of the area as possible. “I can’t see anybody in here.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Don’t hold your breath</em>,” an icy voice calls as Remy’s head snaps up at the ceiling. “<em>Actually, do; It’ll be a <strong>long</strong> fall.</em>” Before the two could react chords upholding the lift light up, cutting the chords in half and sending them flying down. Remy barely hears his teammate curse unable to open the lid for his escape as air scrapes across Remy’s own skin. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>A deafening impact followed by the feeling of metal digging into his ribs nearly jolting him off the roof indicated that they had stopped. Remy unclamps his fingers from around pieces of broken metal, gathering his breath. He doesn’t make a sound as he listens for any sign of their murderer. Vibrations from the collapse &amp; silence filled the shaft suggesting that the man had left. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Swiftly, Remy’s concern goes to Quicksilver. He opens the now crooked lid, looking inside. “Quicksilver?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Silence. </strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Quicksilver?” Remy repeats, his eyes darting around the collapsing elevator shell. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Silence. </strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Pietro?</em>” Remy calls. His chest churns in worry as daunting thoughts enter his mind. What if Pietro has-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Shit…” a voice echos softly, interrupting the other man's panicked state. Remy sighs in relief. “Pietro are you okay?” He asks concern woven in his tone. He awaits a response, hearing faint shuffling. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Where is our target?” Pietro instead ignores his question. “I haven’t heard him leave nor stay.” He responds. “Now are you okay?” He repeats. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Silence. </strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“There’s something on my chest.” Pietro finally answers. Remy frowns as he bends his head down to look inside. Indeed, the elevator had collapse in on itself; the darkness inside made it impossible for him to see his teammate. “Is your torch still working?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m coming in, tell me if I step on you.” Gambit warns, pulling his body through the tight gap and gathering his surroundings. Quickly, he finds the torch which had rolled to the corner of the contained area. Picking it up, he swiftly shone it around. He soon lands on a mop of curly silver hair. Pieces of the metal structure had in fact collapsed onto his body, more specifically his chest and legs. Remy expected the man to be in pain which would explain his slow responses; instead his face showed panic. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How much pain are you in?” He asks. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Nothing much.” Pietro shakily responds, his eyes clamped shut. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Moving towards where Pietro was situated, he attempts to lift some of the metal by his legs; the silver haired mutant responds with a strangled yell of pain. Remy briskly stops, retreating back. He stares back at the mutant speedster. “You seem in a lot more pain than you think.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I can’t really tell, I’m more…” Pietro drawls off of his sentence as his voice grows quieter. Remy’s eyebrows knit together trying to understand what Pietro was attempting to get at. He tries to think back to the countless lessons Charles had put him through during first aid when it came to people not feeling the pain immediately and- </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh.” Remy whispers under his breath, realisation daunting. Pietro heavily breaths in, “Yeah.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Moving across to sit beside Pietro, Remy plants himself on the ground. Quicksilver avoids looking at him. “You need to calm down so I can help you.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I can’t. I <em> just </em> see <b> <em>him</em> </b>.” Pietro shakily responds. For what seemed like the first time Pietro was being honest to Remy; if the guy wasn’t injured he’d revel in the moment. After all, it was a sight for sore eyes</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Now Remy suddenly understands, the unexpected anxiety &amp; panic in the situation becoming crystal clear to him. <strong>M-Day. </strong></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re not there, Erik isn’t here.” He attempts to reassure the man. Pietro shakes his head, breathing out. “It feels like <strong>he’s</strong> here. It’s dark and it’s cold and <em><strong>I </strong></em><strong><em>can’t</em></strong> <em><strong>move</strong></em>.” He expresses in a ramble, gathering his breath. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Pietro, Open your eyes.” He instructs cautiously. Pietro slowly opens them, his face paling at the sight around him. Remy moves his hands to where a chunk of metal laid on his chest. “You’re inside a lift, Erik is not here, I’m going to try and move this piece off of you, can you feel anything sticking in you?” Remy repeats his first statement, adding a request at the end. Pietro shakes his head, his mouth uttering something Remy registered as a ‘no’.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Steadily, Remy begins lifting the plank of metal off him. Pietro’s breath hitches sharply, his eyes now glued onto Remy. Dropping the piece of metal onto the rusted ground beside him, Remy looks back over at Quicksilver. The other man stares back at him, catching his breath, “I’ll give you a couple minutes to regain composure then try the rest.” Remy sighs, sitting back down. Pietro nods, looking down.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The two sit in silence for what seemed like hours when it were merely minutes. Pietro ends up being the one to break it, “I’m more of a cat person than a people person.” He states, throwing Remy off his thoughts. “What?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“When I was younger, in the Roma camp the other kids looked down upon me, they found my paler complexion and silver hair off putting as I didn’t look like them- they didn’t <strong>see</strong> <strong>me</strong> as one of them. Some children used hurting animals as a pastime, namely cats. So, I would step in the middle and take the hits. Then, when the children got bored, I would take the cat back home &amp; my parents would be livid. I’d tend to the cats as my aunt tended to me. I suppose being called a cat person hits that extra nerve. It’s pathetic, really.” He recalls, his eyes looking up to the collapsing ceiling. Remy frowns, shifting in his spot. “Then why not just say that?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s just something that brings out things I’d rather not talk about.” He responds quietly. Remy nods. He could see why it’d hurt; as a child, Remy was belittled endlessly for his unusual features. Children around him would say he was the devil's spawn. Sometimes he still finds himself covering his eyes in situations where it may scare others. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Eyes flickering back to Pietro’s legs, he turns to him raising an eyebrow. “You think you’ll be able to handle four minutes of being lumbered about?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Five hours passed in agony for Pietro as he laid upon white sheets of medical bedding. His doctor had spent the last hour attempting to put a cast on his leg; two hours previously wasted trying to stop his frustration over the broken bones. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lorna had been sitting beside her brother with moral support &amp; comfort but swiftly had to calm down the raging storm that was Harrison Snow. Pietro could faintly hear the arguing between the two; Snow being pissed that one of his members was down and Lorna being defensive that she didn’t realise this would happen. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>And of course Lorna was right:</strong> She wasn’t to know this would happen. As much as the two siblings bickered against one another they always wanted the best for each other. If she had known he’d end up getting hurt she’d have gone with them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The doctor left his bedside to receive some of Pietro’s newest vitals. Closing the door to his room blocking out the voices of his sister &amp; boss, they left him to his own peaceful silence. Closing his eyes, All he could hear was the humming of machines and small beeps pulsing from monitors. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Good.  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Suddenly the door to his room swings open against the wall creating a harsh clang. Pietro jolts up from his spot, wincing as pain shoots up his thigh. A voice soon follows, “Not dead then?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Pietro slowly opens his eyes, irritation sizzling under his skin. He sighs. “No, sadly not.” He responds to the man, slanting back down the backboard of his bed and onto his cushions.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Remy smiles, “No really, how are yo’?” He asks, his tone softer. Pietro frowns, shifting slightly. “I’m fine, just annoyed.” The other man nods, his face growing more concerned, “An’ yo’ ain’t still...”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Panicking? No.” Pietro sighs. “What are you doing here?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well Remy jus’ wanted t’ check up on yo’-“ </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, really?,” Pietro’s brows furrowed as he quizzically stared at the x-man. Remy raises an eyebrow, lowering his head down at him. “Honestly? I wanted t’ see how yo’ were an’ I suppose t’ call a truce.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“A Truce?” Pietro’s lips twist up, mocking his words. Remy nods confidently, crossing his arms. “Well, yea’, it seems stupid t’ carry on bickerin’ an’ all.” He answers truthfully. Pietro, however, merely chokes out a laugh. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We’re not preschoolers, LeBeau.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Lorna would disagree,” Remy bats back, manoeuvring around the room to sit in the seat previously occupied by the woman in question. The silver haired man scoffs at him. “Lorna told you to come in here, right? <em>This is unbelieva–</em>”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, Remy came in here on his own accord t’ call a truce cus’ I think we’d get along much better as acquaintances- <b> <em>hell</em> </b>, maybe even friends. An’ if today told me anythin’ it was dat’ we’d be a lot safer around one another if we stuck together.” The Cajun expresses honestly. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Pietro stares at him suspiciously. Pressing his lips together, he breathes out in surrender. “Fine..” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Gambit’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, “Okay...Good.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Okay.” Pietro parrots monotonously, tearing his eyes away from Remy and turning onto his side. “You can go now.” The speedster dismisses, mostly uncomfortable with the aspect of the two being civil- a part of him feeling mournful. Remy nods, standing up from his seat and walking over to the door. As he opens it, he pauses looking over at the other. “Don’t be too slow in recoverin’, I need someone t’ conspire with.” he teases. Pietro rolls his eyes watching as the Cajun slips out the door, shutting it more quietly than his entrance. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And as soon as he was gone Pietro felt himself smile ever so slightly. He wouldn’t tell him that he found him amusing, the man didn’t need more of an ego boost that day. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Inception</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been 56 days since Servals X-factor had been composed together and 15 days since Remy had called upon a truce. Since the incident with the elevator shaft, Lorna had brought the rest of her available team of four to hunt down the mutant murderer. By midnight of their 2nd day of searching they had the bastard in custody pending a sentencing. </p><p> </p><p>Pietro was still on the bench when it came to his role on the team; while his leg had nicely healed up his body was still recovering from the loss of burning energy. Doug had told him that it would take at least another two weeks to get back to his normal before being allowed back on missions. While Pietro should be reviling in the idea of having a break from hero work like every other hero he has met- Pietro was the complete opposite. By the third day Pietro had expected to be axed all together from the team- What use was he without his speed? He had seen this all before with the Brotherhood and The Avengers; if he wasn't running he wasn't needed around. So, when his sister came into his room talking about making him rest longer to rehabilitate as well as ask if he needed to talk about the 'panic attack' Remy had retold to her, Pietro was thrown off. This wasn't how it worked and it made him feel uncomfortable,</p><p> </p><p>Another part of him really didn't want this to be taken away. The aftermath of his injuries and consoling from his friends was unnatural for him but he was slowly becoming use to it; and now with 2 weeks left to retrain Pietro was happy to be useful again and not burden the people he has come to care about <strong>(Except for Lorna; he had joined the team because he cared about her already.) </strong></p><p> </p><p>And then there was Remy. He had come to visit every few hours to see how the ex-Avenger was. Pietro could tell from the purplish contour around the cajun’s eyes that he had come to him in regret &amp; guilt. It would be easy for Pietro to blame the man for what had happened except 1. They called a truce &amp; 2. Pietro hadn’t made things any easier. </p><p> </p><p>He knew he wasn’t a simple person and found it difficult to open up to new people; <em>hell</em>, Pietro couldn’t even open up to his own twin sister. <strike>For the first 18 years of his life he thought he was heartless to not be able to open up to anyone.</strike> So as much as he wished he could sack all his anger onto his teammate he just couldn’t. </p><p> </p><p>That’s perhaps how the two mutants in question had ended up lounging in the runners bedroom attempting to watch through all 6 original Star Trek films per Remy’s request. </p><p> </p><p>Both men were lying on his bed staring towards a dimly lit laptop screen with two differential expressions on their faces. Remy’s was of entertainment: his eyes blown wide and his mouth miming every line because <strong>of course</strong> he’d watched these all before. Meanwhile, Pietro watched with slanted eyes grasping at any type of explanation as to what’s going on. By the time they’d got to the third film Pietro had seemed to finally understand the concept of the films &amp; Remy was inevitably fully absorbed into the Sci-Fi film. </p><p> </p><p>Rolling his head to the side, Pietro glances at the time displayed on his bedside clock; <strong>22:56</strong> it shone in flickering red light. Turning his face back against the soft fabric of his pillow, he watches as the end credits begin to play with a humming of a newly familiar theme to the speedster. He silently yawns in his spot, looking back to the mutant beside him. “I think I’ve watched enough Sci-Fi for my lifetime.” He says, a slight tone of satire in his voice. Remy hums, shaking his head. “Wrong– Yo’ can't ever have enough Sci-FI. If it were classed as a vitamin Remy would say yo’ had a major -14 deficiency in de department.” The red eyed man muses in a teasing manner. </p><p> </p><p>Pietro rolls his eyes, letting them fall shut. “You’re insufferable.” </p><p> </p><p>“But dat’ is what keeps this entertainin’” Remy corrects, motioning between the two. This type of conversation had began to come natural to the two serval members; no longer did they fall into consistent words of distrust and taunts, instead teasing each other with words that didn’t rip wounds in the others' memories. Any thoughts of saying or doing otherwise would soon disperse when either of the two thought back to what happened that day in the apartment building– both soon realise the other squirming in discomfort wasn’t at all satisfying if it ended with someone getting hurt. </p><p> </p><p>Maybe they had begun to adult in their relationship; <em>Or maybe they just found this more fun. </em></p><p> </p><p>“I still don’t understand why you like these types of films.” The speedster complains, mumbling in a rare exhausted tone. To put up with Remy solely alone for more than an hour had that kind of effect on Pietro; one that his sleep pattern greeted with open arms. “They help yo’ escape reality for a lil’ while an’ forget when things go t’ shit or de lack of people yo’ got with yo’. In Star Wars n Star Trek they are all a family.” Remy explains openly as though he had pulled a brain stem from his own mind and placed it in Pietro’s head to relive. Pietro merely nods in thought. </p><p> </p><p>“I suppose you have a point…”</p><p> </p><p>“Yo’ must watch somethin’ when wantin’ t’ take yo’ mind off things, hm?” Remy asks, shifting the weight of the conversation from himself to Pietro. Pietro shrugs, “I don’t really watch things…”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure yo’ do!” The mutant argues playfully, nudging him softly in the arm. The silver haired man sighs. “I like watching historical documentaries so I can point out what they got wrong.” He honestly answers. </p><p> </p><p>Remy grins, “Yo’ a history geek?” </p><p> </p><p>Pietro shakes his head. “No...I learn things straight away; call it a photographic memory but even quicker I guess. I’ve read so many books on history mainly because Steve would give me them whenever I queried him about anything from the past and it just sort of stuck. So, when I feel out of control, I watch something historical and correct any errors they make.” He explains. </p><p> </p><p>The other man nods along as Pietro speaks. When he finishes, Remy grabs the stray laptop sloping on the bed and begins typing g-d knows what on it. “Yo’ are full of surprises; an’ dat’ gives me a solution to your disinterest in Sci-FI.” </p><p> </p><p>“What?” Pietro questions, a twist of dread in his stomach forming. </p><p> </p><p>Remy simply grins. “Yo’ need t’ watch some classic doctor who dat’ is what.” </p><p> </p><p>The runner inwardly groans, clamping his eyes shut. “Not tonight- please no more I’ll take sleep over this.” Pietro warns loudly, earning a light hearted laugh from the dubious thief. </p><p> </p><p>“If yo’ really must,” Remy raises his hands up in surrender, balancing the laptop in his lap. Letting out a breath of relief, Pietro begins to feel himself drift off to sleep. Standing up from the bed grasping the now closed laptop Remy bids goodnight with a threat of classic doctor whatever the following evening.</p><p> </p><p>As Pietro’s breaths evened out he promised himself not to let the other know just how easy he got him to sleep; nor the next morning when the mutant speedster would awake with monsterless dreams. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>The following day Pietro awoke in the early hours of the morning. Usually this would be when Pietro would run a few laps around the globe to wake himself up but the familiar routine was not necessary as of lately. So instead Pietro would head down to serval’s isolated field where the faint noises from the nearby city sang. The speedster let himself run across the field at a slow pace at first. He didn’t know what was more agonising; the leg injuries or the speed itself. </p><p> </p><p>Slowly but steadily he began to speed up, cautiously concentrating on his breathing. His body hadn’t healed enough to dart off like he usually would do so building up his stamina and energy was a good way to relieve himself of the buzz to run off the energy he held within him. He soon found his mind wandering away from focus. He thought of Wanda; how was she? The two hadn’t been speaking for a while now and Alex Summers hadn’t told him anything during their entire deal. Havok had promised if Pietro watched upon Lorna and gave him updates that he’d get him on speaking terms with his sister; but Pietro didn’t think he wanted it that way anymore. Lorna wasn’t in the best place right now and needed some support &amp; honestly  Pietro didn’t want to be an avenger right now. X-Factor has that type of effect on him as a means to escape the callous remarks his teammates would put out. If he ran too far ahead he was being cocky and impatient, if he was too slow he was putting people at risk. Maximoff is just a shadow of Mag- </p><p> </p><p>Then his mind fell on to his father. </p><p> </p><p>Magneto found his speed charming; the first time they properly talked about his abilities and appearance his father had said they were ‘unique’. Back then Pietro didn’t know how someone fast with silver hair was unique; instead he argued it was weird and unnatural. Still, Magneto had persisted that those that found Pietro strange were beneath him; not the other way around. And maybe that’s why Pietro stayed around so long, even if Magneto beat him to near death when things didn’t go to plan or when Wanda wanted to leave Erik Lehnsherr was still the first stranger to find him normal; even better than normal. So he accepted the pain for that one ounce of belonging. </p><p> </p><p>Pietro hadn’t even noticed that he had stopped running and instead was cradled on his knees on the murky grass of the field. He let out a shaky breath of exhaustion, swallowing back any emotions fighting to come out. After a couple minutes he was nearly calming down, his breathing steadily adjusting. The mutant’s hard work swiftly disperses, however, when a hand rests on his shoulder making him jolt forward. </p><p> </p><p>“Are yo’ okay?” Remy’s voice quickly follows in a way to let Pietro know it’s not some stranger. </p><p> </p><p>Pietro doesn’t however care &amp; still frowns. “I’m fine.” </p><p> </p><p>“Yo’ sure? I saw yo’ fall on t’ the ground an’ yo’ didn’t look fine.” The cajun responds staring at the back of the speedsters head. Pietro turns to face him, slightly raising an eyebrow. “You’re watching me now?” He derides. Remy simply simpers back at him. “Remy wakes up an’ sees yo’ running from de windows. Why? Do yo’ want me t’ watch yo’?” The man says in a suggestive manner. </p><p> </p><p>Pietro rolls his eyes. “No, I really don’t.” </p><p> </p><p>Remy shrugs. “Alrigh’, fine by me.”</p><p> </p><p>The two sit in silence for a few minutes letting the faint sounds of nearby seagulls passing by take over. The air was quite humid for a October morning and as it continued to tickle across Pietro’s cheeks and comb its way through his hair the more the weather seemed to distract him from a problem at hand. </p><p> </p><p>“Remy?” </p><p> </p><p>“Hm?” The other man hums in reply. </p><p> </p><p>“..Could you help me up?” Pietro hesitantly responds. He could feel a part of his consciousness scream at him just for simply asking that from the other. Remy looks over at the silver haired man and nods, standing up himself. Holding his hands out, Pietro tentatively takes them. Remy pulls the other mutant up from the ground, Pietro muttering a thanks. </p><p> </p><p>“Will yo’ be okay t’ walk back?” Remy asks. Pietro merely nods. Remy quirks an eyebrow up at the speedster as the other stares expectantly at him. </p><p> </p><p>“What?” </p><p> </p><p>“Your hands..” </p><p> </p><p>“Dey’ were soft? Hm, Remy knows.” Remy says with a hint of amusement. Pietro, howbeit, pulls an unamused face. </p><p> </p><p>“No. You’ve still got my hands.” Pietro corrects, awkwardly shifting in his spot. Remy’s eyes drop to where the others eyes were glued to and realised that he did, in fact, still have a hold of his hands. He drops them from his grip, “Righ’, sorry.” </p><p> </p><p>Pietro nods in recognition, slowly walking back. Remy frowns to himself as he goes, <em> Why did you have to act so lame around quicksilver of all people? What is wrong with you? </em>He asks himself as he stands glued to his spot. Anyone else and he’d have played it off. Maybe Remy felt bad for what happened to his leg and that’s why he let the other come out on top. </p><p> </p><p>The other suggestion his mind conjured up was sharply shoved into the back of his mind and padlocked 27 times before being kinetically set alight.</p><p><em> No </em> , he thinks. <em> Anything but that. </em> <br/>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Im back at school soon so updates won’t be as fast as this(?) I can say however that this story will have between 18-20 chapters. If I don't update i'm so sorry lmfao.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Blinding Lights</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is double the length than the usual chapters I post so I warn you in advance; I’ll explain why in my end notes❤️</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Pietro thought he was a pretty good baker.</p><p> </p><p>Sure, cooking seemed to be his biggest arch nemesis next to watching a three hour blockbuster &amp; it would always end in a fire from impatience and annoyance but he was good for his circumstances— Baking is a subtle art; Pietro is far from subtle. But besides those hiccups and obstacles, Pietro deemed himself good enough. </p><p> </p><p>Wanda would argue he isn’t.</p><p> </p><p>No matter how hard he mastered each recipe his mutation seemed to ruin every attempt. If he mixed the mixture too fast? Bye bye cake; The mixture ends up flying on to the walls. If he has to wait 20 minutes? He’ll forget after 30 and eat crisp &amp; burnt cake. </p><p> </p><p>Things always seemed to go wrong when he baked so when deciding upon making something during his last few days of recovery, Pietro decided on something simpler; Gingerbread beings. </p><p> </p><p>Specifically speaking, Pietro had made specialised people for each member of the team. He had made sure to give the nicest looking gingerbread being that resembled a body the most to Lorna; maybe the second best to Doug. The other two members were robots that simply couldn’t eat and Remy who would be sure to make fun of the taste or appearance of the treats. </p><p> </p><p>Adjusting the green frosting on his sister's biscuit, he hears the kitchen door swing open. He’d hear mechanics if it were either Warlock or Danger, Doug would be silent &amp; Lorna wouldn’t let the door attack the wall because ‘haven’t we made enough holes around here?’ So, the only other option was Remy. </p><p> </p><p>“What are yo’ makin’?” The man in question asks as he makes his way to the breakfast bar. “Gingerbread beings.” Pietro responds, his eyes glued to warlocks and perfecting his unique design. Remy raises an eyebrow, “Gingerbread beings?” </p><p> </p><p>“Luna doesn’t like the term ‘gingerbread men’ so we call them beings.” The speedster shrugs, pushing over a plate occupied by a gingerbread being to the Cajun. Picking the biscuit up, Remy inspects it with his particular eyes. “Remy hopes dat’ they taste better than they look.” </p><p> </p><p>Pietro sends him a glare, looking back down. “‘Thanks Pietro’ would have done nicely.” He mutters. Remy grins, lifting himself up onto the bar with his plate in hand earning a look of horror from Pietro. “What?” The red eyed mutant asks. </p><p> </p><p>“That is beyond unhygienic.” Pietro responds, shaking his head at him. Remy laughs, “Ah, but doin’ dis’ cant quite cross contaminate something already contaminated.” He humours. The other man rolls his eyes. “Can you be anymore of an asshole?” </p><p> </p><p>“Yo’ askin’ for a competition? I think dat’ might be de’ only one against Remy yo’ would win.” Remy continues, taking a hesitant bite from his mini gambit. Pietro stares at him expectantly. </p><p> </p><p>Remy gulps it down, “it ain’t too bad.”</p><p> </p><p>This time Pietro smirks, looking back down at his works, “I tried telling you…” </p><p> </p><p>“I said ‘too bad’, yo’ still ranked last on cookin’ for de’ team.” Remy rebuttals. Pietro’s eyes widened. “You ranked Lorna higher than me?” </p><p> </p><p>“She ain’t dat’ bad- she can cook better than yo’.” </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah and better at aiming knives at you if things go badly.” Pietro points out. Remy frowns.</p><p> </p><p>“..yo’ are right.” </p><p> </p><p>“Tell me something new,” Pietro mutters, stepping back from his work and taking it all in. It wasn’t brilliant but it was brilliant enough for him and his efforts. Remy takes his third bite, looking around amongst the plates. “Where is yo’ one?” </p><p> </p><p>Pietro shrugs. “Didn’t want one.”</p><p> </p><p>Shaking his head, Remy jumps off the counter. “Yo’ can’t jus’ make de’ team an’ then not make yo’.” He complains, peering over bowls displaced around the kitchen. Pietro stares at him questionly , “what are you doing?” </p><p> </p><p>“Making yo’ a gingerbread ‘being’.” He answers. Pietro rolls his eyes, swatting the thief's hands away. “No you are not.” The Cajun ignores him, finally grabbing the right mixture instead. “Oh no, dis’ is definitely not stayin’.” He tuts, throwing the bowl into the sink. Pietro scowls, “That took a long time—” </p><p> </p><p>“And yo’ didn’t make one for yo’self.” Remy interjects. Crossing his arms against his chest, Pietro frowns. “Why are you so heated about this?” </p><p> </p><p>“Yo’ cannot bake alone so Remy thinks dat’ together we can not only make decent food but make yo’ one too; after all yo’ committed an unforgivable crime against food. More importantly, Yo’ can’t jus’ make team gingerbread an’ then leave yo’self out.” Remy explains, grabbing the ingredients needed. Turning to Pietro, he raises an eyebrow, “anymore questions or can we get t’ work?”</p><p> </p><p>Pietro searches excruciatingly deep to find an excuse to say no to all this ridiculousness but just can’t find it in his heart. He stays quiet, opting for a quirk of the eyebrow as though he is expectantly waiting. Remy nods in contempt. </p><p> </p><p>“Good. Lets get t’ work. Now first thing ‘bout bakin’ is usually de’ right ingredients….”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>After an hour of intensive cooking &amp; 500g of flour (letting Pietro ‘impatient’ Maximoff mix the ingredients had been a grave mistake on Remy’s behalf.), the two men had successfully baked the entire team. Both sat on barstools situated by the breakfast bar, finishing up final touches on the miniature serval building the two had created; structured and iced in all its glory. </p><p> </p><p>Pietro wipes his forearm against his cheek, sweeping off some of the stray flour that had landed on his skin. The speedster lets out a sigh of relief, “This is why Wanda is the baker– how do you people wait <em>so</em> long?” He questions. Remy releases a laugh, shaking his head at his teammate. “We ain’t speedsters, Piet- waitin’ ain’t so long for us.” He responds matter-of-factly. </p><p> </p><p>Pietro shakes his head, scoffing at the nickname the other man used. However, the Cajun could sense he was suppressing a laugh of confession. Remy watched as silver curls fell forward into his eyes, the kitchen lights that clutched onto the ceiling illuminated the mutants locks as if stardust from the moon had moulded into his hair. The thief should of been cursing himself by now; Why on Earth was he thinking about quicksilver like this? Why was he thinking of his friend that way? Since when did Remy think of the man as his <strong><em>friend</em></strong>? Sure, the guy was good looking- when the man smiled his eyes seemed to too. Any guy would admit that the runner was pretty. Besides his skin being clear in complexion like pale sand found on a tropical island and having eyes that glistened with hopeful emotion– <span class="u"><strong>fuck it</strong></span>— <strong>Remy <em>could</em> admit he found Pietro Maximoff beautiful. </strong></p><p> </p><p>Just because his dreams as of late had been filled with multiple situations involving the speedster (some in compromising positions…) doesn’t mean he <em>suddenly</em> liked the guy; <em>I mean come on, It’s quicksilver,</em> his conscious reminded himself. Remy thought he was hot, others did too, <strong>whatever</strong>. </p><p> </p><p>“Have you become too slow to keep up with my words of <em>oh</em> <em>such</em> intelligence?” Pietro’s voice interrupts his streak of thoughts taunting teasingly. Remy’s eyes dart back to the speedsters own, a bad decision on his side as he felt himself drowning in the wild blue waves the man harboured. “Nah, actually. Remy isn’t respondin’ cus’ of de complete opposite. Yo’ are inaudibly rattling long words t’ match mon intelligence.” The Cajun smoothly bats back.</p><p> </p><p>Pietro rolls his eyes in retaliation, grabbing his own gingerbread being from where it had been placed for photos Remy had insisted on and all also a plate that hung by the dishwasher. Standing up from where he was perched, he throws a look at Remy. Suddenly Pietro’s face softens, making Remy’s stomach churn warmly in some kind of somersault. “Thank you… I appreciate it.” </p><p> </p><p>Remy smiles back, dropping his teasing manner. “No problem.” He replies. </p><p> </p><p>Looking on as Pietro leaves the room; Remy instantly lets out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. </p><p> </p><p><strong>Okay</strong>; so <em>maybe</em> Remy liked the speedster more than he had previously let on. If there was one thing that the two mutants had in common it would be their intriguing nature to something new. </p><p> </p><p>Gambit knew the only way to get a clearer night's sleep is to confront the problem at hand; and as a thief Remy never stepped away from a challenge. </p><p><br/>
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</p><p>Pietro had been awoken from his power nap around 6pm. It had been four days since the cajun’s and his <strike>strictly only</strike> baking tyst. He would be lying to himself if he said his dreams of recent hadn’t been plagued by red eyes and brunette curls. Snapping him out of his hazy thoughts, a female voice stifles a laugh. </p><p> </p><p>Lorna was staring down at him in amusement as he stretched his long limbs along the couch. He groggily speaks, “What is it, Lorna?” </p><p> </p><p>His sister shrugs in response, swaying backwards and forwards on her heels. “Nothing really, just telling you we are going out with Wanda &amp; some of her teammates tonight.”</p><p> </p><p>”<em>We?</em>”</p><p> </p><p>”Oh <strong>and</strong> I also posted a picture of you sleeping onto twitter. What can I say, my finger <em>must</em> of slipped.” </p><p> </p><p>“What?!” Pietro shoots up from his spot, Scowling. “Lorna!” His sister grins, moving away from his arm as he tries to reach for her phone. She laughs, “You are just so easy to wind up– now you need to get changed.” She adds, leaning against the back of the couch. </p><p> </p><p>Pietro shakes his head, “I’m <strong><em>not</em></strong> going out.” He says adamantly to his sibling. </p><p> </p><p>“Yes, you <em><strong>are</strong></em>.” Lorna insists, crossing her arms against her chest. Pietro groans. “Don’t I get a choice?” </p><p> </p><p>“<em>No?</em> Now get up, you’re supposed to be fast!” Lorna scolds, smacking a cushion against her brothers shoulder and exiting the room but not before warning him of worser consequences if he doesn’t comply. Pietro sighs, standing up from the comforter and heading on his own journey back to his room. </p><p> </p><p>3 minutes &amp; twenty four discarded shirts across his bedroom floor later, the speedster was ready and standing in the lobby of serval. Lorna was scrolling through her phone in amusement presumably looking through replies to her tweet where she practically exploited Pietro in a vulnerable state (and if she had heard him think that she’d probably call him ‘<em>dramatic’</em>). All the while, Remy was sat against an arm chair eyeing some of Snow’s most valuable artifacts that stood around in the entrance.</p><p>(Most definitely which one would be easiest to steal first.)</p><p> </p><p>He was glad the two weren’t conspiring with one another to spread the picture(s?) around of him; if it <em>had</em> been situated at the Avengers, Pietro would be sure to find the cause of the leakage being a certain Clint Barton and Tommy Maximoff. <em>G-d he wished his nephew wasn’t so fond of that arrowhead.</em></p><p> </p><p>Coughing quietly to bring attention to his arrival, his two x-factor teammates look up at him with individual takes. Lorna smiles fondly up at her half brother, even more so glad he even bothered with his attire. Meanwhile, Remy was plainly staring at him with a look Pietro didn’t quite trust; deep down his consciousness would drag up where it had seen it before, his logistic part of his mind would compress those thoughts back down only to call him ridiculous for even thinking the other harboured anything. </p><p> </p><p>“So, where are we headed?” Pietro inquires. The green haired woman stands up from her spot almost immediately out of impatience or excitement or both, taking long strides along the front of the building towards their ride to the club. She brushes a stray strand of hair from her face, turning to her brother. “There’s this mutant friendly club right near Hell’s Kitchen. No point going to a place where they’ll kick us out.” She explains, opening the Mercedes black glossed door and sliding inside. The two men follow in suit of their leader, shuffling into the car. </p><p> </p><p>Pietro silently scolds when he finds himself in between the two— worse off, he had the least legroom: the speedster of the team had no leg room. Remy gives him an entertained look, clearly understanding the minor inner turmoil the mutant runner was facing. In response to the cajun’s amused quirk of his lips, Pietro rolls his eyes with a scowl, turning to face the front and ignoring any attempts of conversation. </p><p> </p><p>Sighing to herself, Lorna tilts her head forward to their driver for the night. She twists her lips into a thin tight smile, attempting to suppress her own pain of babysitting the two male mutants at the same time. “Take us to that Underground bar in central New York, please? And for my sake <strong><em>quickly</em></strong>.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>It was 8pm on the clock as the three teammates stepped out of their ride and thanking their driver. As the car leaves, they look upon the nightclub in front of them. </p><p> </p><p>Pietro winced as his eyes looked upon neon lights, raising a hand to shade his sight from oncoming blindness. Lorna, meanwhile, brushes down her dress, readjusting her bag over her shoulder. Remy, on the other hand, had his mind and eyes elsewhere. Pietro looks over to the Cajun, catching him looking his way for a brief moment. Before he could ask what he wanted, rapid clicks and clacks from high heels entered the atmosphere; the next thing Pietro verified was a body engulfing him in a hug. </p><p> </p><p>“When Wanda told me you were coming I didn’t think you actually would- it’s not really your usual scene- but here you are!” Janet Van Dyne cries out in joy, happy to see one of her closest &amp; oldest friends after so long. Pietro smiles into the hug. The eldest Avengers’ Wasp was one of few people to have that magic trick of making the runner smile. Pulling back from the hug, she takes his appearance in. She raises an eyebrow,  “Alex <em>was</em> right, you are more relaxed on x-factor teams–“ </p><p> </p><p>“I know he’s kind of your leader and all but let’s not bring that assh- male up.” Lorna interjects, her usual bright green eyes iced over with magnus blinds. Pietro frowns when he looks over to meet his sister's gaze, reminded all too well of what the younger summer's brother had done to his little sister. </p><p> </p><p>Noticing the sudden intensity in the air, Janet motions to the door, “Let’s not keep the others waiting– Lorna, Remy, it’s lovely to see you again.” She formally greets. Lorna stifles out a friendly small smile while Remy throws his usual smirk that could woo any woman- or man- or anyone, for that matter. Pietro pretends he isn't a part of that portion of people. Turning away from where he had watched Remy, he instead followed his three friends inside the club. </p><p> </p><p>Sighing deeply to himself, Pietro hopes the others have supplied enough alcohol to wear out his quick metabolism and possibly binge all the poison away that must have seeped into his brain to begin making him feel this certain way. </p><p> </p><p>Grabbing a shot from the bar, he lets the hard liquid scold down the back of his throat. Maybe more of this could burn the strange feelings Remy out. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Moving between the crowds of people dancing against one another on the glowing club floor, Remy makes his way towards the woman with a familiar white streak indented into dark brunette hair. Coming up to her, he tries his best to masquerade a casual facial expression. “Anna-Marie,” he greets, a warm reserved tone entering his voice. </p><p> </p><p>Rogue spins around to face him, her smile growing, “Hiya Remy…” she awkwardly responds in her southern belle accent. It was unlike the two to stay so quiet but with each other after all that’s happened between them it was hard <em>not</em> to fall silent— there’s just so much to unpack. </p><p> </p><p>“So…” Anna-Marie drawls, looking to meet her ex’s eyes, “Ah hope everythin’ is goin’ good wit’ X-factor?” She sincerely says. Remy nods, </p><p> </p><p>“Yea’, things are’ good righ’ now.” He answers, deciding not to dwell on the certain person that came to mind when she mentioned the team's name. Rogue nods along, moving a stray hair from against her face. “Ah am glad you are doin’ okay, sugah.” </p><p> </p><p>“How are yo’? Things okay wit’ Lehnsherr?” Remy asks, instantly realising how weird it sounded; rogue’s ex asking her how her new boyfriend is who just so happened to be the father of two of his teammates (and the father of his new muse...).</p><p>She decides to simply shrug, “We are doin’ good.” </p><p>Swaying on his feet, his eyes crinkle as he gives her a troublesome smile, “Lets cut de’ small an’ awkward talk; Dat’ isn’t really how we roll after all. How bout’ yo’ tell Remy all de’ funny stories yo’ have on de Avengers?” He suggests in a light hearted manner.</p><p> </p><p>Rogue raises an eyebrow at her first love, though she doesn’t argue against it. Eyes glancing over the room, they land onto an empty booth. She turns to him, matching his mischievous smile. </p><p> </p><p>“Well ah suggest yo’ sit down; ah after all have got many.” </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“Guess what?” Lorna sings songs, slumping into the booth beside her brother. Pietro sits up from where he was slouching, having just drowned down another drink. He quirked an eyebrow up at her, “What?” He asks; whenever his sister got drunk it always brought him back to when she attempted to shoot him. This may be why he’s <strong><em>slightly</em></strong> apprehensive of her in this kind of state. However, this time, it seems he’s in her good books. </p><p> </p><p>“I have just bought us more drinks,” she cheers at the end of her sentence, throwing her arms up in the air to emphasise her excitement. Pietro shakes his head at her, though not refusing one of the drinks on the tray she’d had placed on the table. Lorna pauses her celebration, looking at her brother quizzically instead. “Somethings wrong. You’d be outright brothering- <em>bothering</em>- me right now except something else is occupying your worries— somebody!” She drunkenly corrects herself midway through, detecting Pietro’s mood as though she were a PI or telepath like Jean Grey. </p><p> </p><p>Still, Pietro feels his breath hitch in his throat, clogging it up. He lets out a harsh cough, quickly covering it with a sip of his drink. “It’s nothing, Lorn, I’m just wondering where Wanda is- I haven’t seen her all night.” </p><p> </p><p>Lorna frowns, though she quickly recovers and jumps up from her spot in the corner of the booth. “I saw her by the bar– I’ll go find her!” Before Pietro can even protest his sister is off, disappearing into the crowds. </p><p> </p><p>Sighing to himself, he finishes his drink and reaches for another. His eyes soon dance across the large room, the flickering lights orbiting over their bodies as music loudly pumps from speakers scattered around the room. He finds Janet talking with Steve most likely about making space between Lorna &amp; Alex for the rest of the oncoming night. Meanwhile Alex seemed to be drinking with Logan, the two conversing probably about hating both the avengers <strong>and</strong> x-men. </p><p> </p><p>As his eyes make their way back to where they had begun, he sees Rogue and Remy talking to each other. The two seemed close and comfortable in one another’s company as they sat in a booth. Pietro hated to admit it but he felt something ugly pull in his chest, something close to disappointment and dismay. <strong><em>Jealousy</em></strong>, his mind screams over all the other voices. </p><p> </p><p>Abruptly, the two stand up from where they were sat and pull each other into a hug. Pietro shouldn’t be feeling this type of way about his teammate— let alone Remy. The last time this had happened...it <em>couldn’t</em> happen again. Pietro <em><strong>wouldn’t</strong></em> let it happen. Not after all the hard work Pietro’s put in to be happy and a better person. </p><p> </p><p>Without warning, Remy looks up from his hug with Rogue, his eyes meeting with Pietro’s. Stiffly, Pietro swallows down a hard lump that had grown in his throat. He could feel himself growing red with the sudden attention- he felt like a mouse in a trap, Remy’s blood red orbs clutching him into a trance. Pietro found the red was as intoxicating as the finest wine from Latveria. </p><p> </p><p>Pulling away from the hug, the Cajun plants a kiss on his ex lovers cheek yet not breaking eye contact with the runner. Pietro feels his heart leaping out of his chest and whether he was still enthralled into the man’s unique eyes or through stress blood had risen to his eyes sockets, but Pietro was seeing red. His brain was screaming for him to run while he could; instead he stays put, his eyes refusing to cooperate with the signaling his synapses had sent. </p><p> </p><p>He looks on as the newest female Avenger departs. Placing his drink down, Pietro hastily makes his way up from where he was sat and makes a beeline to the other end of the club in search of his sisters. Just as he pushes his way through, his body makes contact with a bulkier one. Strong arms steady Pietro’s own body and when he looks up he’s greeted with known eyes and a smile twisted with devilry. </p><p> </p><p>“Find mine an’ rogue’s conversation fine entertainment for yo’ likin’?” Remy badgers in a teasing tone. Immediately Pietro is hit with the strong scent of alcohol and realises the man was more than likely beyond tipsy. Frustrated, Pietro rolls his eyes at his teammate, hurriedly trying to move past him to no avail. The Cajun does not let go of his light grasp on him. “What do you want?” The silver haired man challenges, staring daggers in hopes of escaping the situation that led to far more intimate events in his dreams as of recent. </p><p> </p><p>“Wat’ has got Pietro Maximoff so stressed, hm? Dat’ doesn’t need t’ matter; Remy is sure dat’ a dance can fix dat’.” He smoothly coos, leaning the two back and forth from where they stood. The man hadn’t listened to him- and Pietro felt himself glare harder. “Remy I haven’t got the time–”</p><p> </p><p>“Not even enough time for one dance? Yo’ are quicksilver, after all.” The thief throws his mutation back in his face, making Pietro’s frustration mould into anger, “I’m not in the mood to joke with you. I need to find Wanda.” </p><p> </p><p>“Do yo’ really?” Remy quirks an eyebrow up at the smaller man, leading pietro to frown at him with knitted eyebrows. “What?” He quizzes in confusion, screwing his face up at the intoxicated man. “Of <em>course</em> I want to see my sister!” </p><p> </p><p>“I ain’t jokin’ ‘bout that dance. I wouldn’t mind..” Gambit ignores, jumping back to another topic like a child would before they’d learnt to focus on just one. </p><p> </p><p>Pietro lets out a sigh, “Remy…”</p><p> </p><p>The other man moves closer to him, his eyes suddenly moving to directly in front of his own. If Pietro just leaned in a little closer… the mere thought sent a shudder through him. </p><p> </p><p>“Yo’ keep sayin’ my name yet yo’ can’t bring yo’self to say no.” He mutters in honest observation. Pietro doesn’t respond, his mind is screaming at him to run but his heart is urging him to stay and his legs seem to deceive it’s boss, siding with his blood pumping organ. </p><p> </p><p>Remy could see the speedsters conflict; as shielded off as quicksilver was proclaimed to be, only one of them had a decent poker face. Leaning down ever so slightly, Remy’s lips graze across his cheek, warm breath hitting his ear sending a chill down Pietro’s neck. </p><p> </p><p>Through his drunken haze, Remy’s eyes suddenly look more deflated, filled with sincerity and more so; desire. “I can’t either,” </p><p> </p><p>Remy’s face moves closer towards him and Pietro realises he doesn’t want to move away either, no matter how rapidly hard the circumstances churn through his mind. </p><p> </p><p>The two stare at each other in the vibrant neon illuminated room. Stone cold ice on boiling blazed red. </p><p> </p><p>Pietro senses their lips about to meet but sanity seems to have punctured a hole in his consciousness as he pauses in his spot. The Cajun was too unknown— from all he’s witnessed the guy isn’t over Anna-Marie. Fear creeps behind him, making him place a hand between the two pushing against his teammates chest. </p><p> </p><p><strong>Pietro couldn’t be second best;</strong> <em><strong>not again.</strong></em> </p><p> </p><p>“You are drunk and I need to go,” he tells himself more so than to Remy. Before he can argue against what Pietro had said, the runner swiftly speeds away from in front of Remy, leaving the taller man alone in a crowd of bodies. </p><p> </p><p>Remy swings his head around, attempting to find the speeding man but to no avail. Cursing quietly, he feels like punching himself in the face for being so stupid. </p><p> </p><p><em>Not like this,</em> he thought to himself, <em>he shouldn’t have done it like this.  </em></p><p> </p><p>Now he knew that Pietro was interested; but he’ll just think that Remy was drunkenly hitting on him therefore making his chances even more slimmer. He always seemed to take the harder root when it came to anything he wanted. </p><p> </p><p>Eying the room surrounding him, Remy walks back to where Logan and Alex were sitting. If there was one thing he didn’t need right now it was more alcohol.</p><p> </p><p>But he was also a self sabotager and drinking seemed the best way to escape his own hasty stupidity. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Swiftly sweeping his way through the club, he finds Lorna outside leaning against the wall with an ill pale tone to her usually tanned face. He hastily pauses his running, kneeling down to eye level. Her emerald lilipad eyes meet her brother’s own stormy arctic pair. She lets out a displeasured groan as she registers her brother's arrival. </p><p> </p><p>“My dear walking organ harvest can I have your brain? Because mine is <em><strong>killing</strong></em> me,” she grunts slowly, pushing her head against the wall and adding pressure in an attempt to ease some of the thumping pain she was surely experiencing right about now. Pietro lets out a quiet laugh only to stifle it when poison ivy eyes glare slits at him. He goes silent, “Uh, No...I’m sorry.” </p><p> </p><p>Moaning incoherently, Pietro opts to help her up from the ground as her body didn’t seem to operate alone tonight. His sister's head falls against his shoulder as the two begin to make their way to a taxi. “Where the hell is Remy? Stealing crap?” She suddenly complains. </p><p> </p><p>The topic of the certain Cajun thief stirs back memories of what had just happened, sending silence down the silver haired man’s throat. Shoving away the tempting thoughts of the red eyed smooth talking mutant, he instead focuses in front of him, making sure his sister doesn’t fall face first onto the concrete pavement. </p><p> </p><p>“I think he’s continuing the ‘party’ with the x-men.,” he plainly responds back. Lorna nods along like a bobble head, slinging her head back onto his shoulder. </p><p> </p><p>“Where’s Wanda…?” Pietro decides to change the subject, his eyes slanting back into ones of concern. Lorna jolts her head up, smiling warmly, “Ohhhh we did talk and then she said she had to go so up she went like magic,” Lorna describes colourfully, not recognising the frown pulling on her brothers lips. </p><p> </p><p>“She didn’t come to look for me?” He asks softly. Lorna continues to nod, leaning into her brother like it were a wall. </p><p> </p><p>They approach their car back to serval and as Pietro helps Lorna shuffle into her own place in the vehicle, he cannot help but dwell on the strained relationship he and his sister were currently in. The two hadn’t spoken much these past few months and as their birthday approaches closer and closer the pain grows vastly in his chest. </p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t lose his twin sister– <em>she was the only person close enough to know what he’s been through- the one that loved him unconditionally.</em> Now, it was Pietro’s own fault for fucking it up. Clicking Lorna’s seat belt into place, Pietro slides into the seat next to hers, clicking his own seat belt into its socket. </p><p> </p><p>As the engine begins to hum, Pietro brushes his sister's hair out of her face in case she needs to spew the contents of all she had digested that night. </p><p> </p><p>This was exactly why he couldn’t let Remy in; if his twin sister didn't want anything to do with him, Remy for sure wouldn’t be able to cope with all the runner’s silent turmoil. Just like the rest, he’d get bored of waiting at Pietro’s ironically slow pace of letting people in and as soon as he got the physical experience/benefit of the speedster, he would leave just like everyone else in his life.</p><p> </p><p>Letting his eyes gloss over skyscrapers, he lets his hands softly drag through thick green curls. </p><p> </p><p>Though the city growled loudly with mechanics, music and voices, it all unsettled him as with all the people that lurked around, he had never felt more alone. He couldn’t give over his all to somebody again; he was too tired for that, and deep down he was just <em><strong>so</strong></em> scared. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Pietro knew he couldn’t run away &amp; survive another heartbreak. </em><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Soo first of all; thank you so much for the hits &amp; kudos !!!!! Not just on this work but my other ones too!! Now onto the whole double shitty content part; I’ve decided to put double the content into this chapter as I’m heading back to school &amp; I don’t know the next time I’ll be able to post. I’m hoping that I will have time to write a couple chapters to put aside. I’m focusing heavily on my grades this year as it’s integral for not only my education but for my wellbeing. I pray that this won’t end up being one of a billion abandoned works on here and that soon enough this work will be complete. I’m mostly certain whoever’s reading this fic isn’t reading the notes b u t if you are still here thank you for the support and I hope to update very soon ❤️💙</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Dissension</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Scroll. </em>
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  <strong>Refresh. </strong>
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  <em> Scroll.  </em>
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  <strong>Refresh.</strong>
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  <span class="u"> Check the connection. </span>
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<p>Turn 4G <strike>off</strike> and <span class="u">on.</span> </p>
<p>Turn the internet <strike>off</strike> and <span class="u">on.</span> </p>
<p><em>Scroll.</em> </p>
<p><strong>Refresh.</strong> </p>
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  <em> Scroll. </em>
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  <strong>Refresh. </strong>
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<p>Letting the glow of his iPhone screen expand across his dark room, he lets out a sigh of tiredness and throws his phone to the end of his bed with a quiet grumble. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>This had become Pietro’s routine throughout the day the past week since the club. For a week he’d been waiting for any type of response to his texts from Wanda but to no avail. He felt like ignoring her warnings and running up to her to ask why she won’t let him in. The serval member felt completely and utterly left out in the dark when it came to his twin sister; half the time he didn’t even know what he’d done. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alex had asked to meet with him earlier that week to discuss what serval had been planning for their press conference; The newest Avenger had declared that Pietro’s job was done here at X-Factor and that he’d be happy to offer him a spot on his team. However, as excruciatingly tempting the offer was to get close to Wanda again and to make her happy with him once more, Pietro couldn’t help but feel selfish in the decision; Pietro felt happy on the x-factor team and he knew that alex knew he was too. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The speedster had found that through the growing want to fix things with his sister he realised that it shouldn’t be him putting in all the effort and instead both of them together. Pietro wanted to stay on the X-factor team; for the first time he felt the strength not to run back to normality and serve the avengers as their taxi. In comparison, Lorna had opened her arms to him even after all he’d done; she hadn’t pushed him away and he could see deep down how happy she was to be back with her brother. It still spooked Pietro that before the two knew of their parentage they were the closest of friends. More so, the team valued him as a member: <em>Nope</em>, not just their go to speedster but a man with good concentration and mission plans. Unlike with the Avengers, Pietro didn’t feel the need to retreat into the shadows as they celebrated another battle won, instead he’d join in with Lorna as they retold how they worked together to disband some type of weapon. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Batting him from his rapid thoughts, four knocks are heard against his door. Sitting up in bed and pulling his covers up towards his unclothed body, he calls out, “What is it?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hearing his door click and unlocking, he turns his head to see Doug ever so slightly opening the door and allowing a slit to poke an eye in. “Uh.., Lorna said that Snow has called us on for an early mission..” His teammate says stumbling over his words; <em>yet another ironic characteristic of his team.</em> Pietro nods neutrally in response, watching as the other man lowers his head, “Do you uhm...know where Gambit is?” Doug asks. Pietro’s eyes narrowly slit in suspicion, lips pulling into a thin line. “No? Why would <strong><em>I</em></strong> know?” He answers in a toneless voice.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The younger mutant lifts his head up noticing the swift change in atmosphere. “I..I don’t know… just thought you would.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well I <em>don’t</em>.” The speedster stubbornly responds. Jumping out of bed with his bedding draped across his waist, he heads straight to his bedroom door. Clasping the glossed auburn wood, he smiles down at his colleague. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m going to change. See you in ten.” As doug opens his mouth to respond, Pietro slams the door in his face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Turning around, Pietro saunters to his wardrobe rifling through to find his costume. He sighs deeply to himself. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>A 3am mission? Pietro just <strong>had</strong> to know what his sister's reaction was to the news. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>“Alright; Cypher &amp; Warlock get to the labs and make sure all experiments are disassembled– Danger you’re with me taking out weaponry and Quicksilver &amp; Gambit get the civilians out.” Lorna Dane commands as they make their way into their latest battle. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>At 2:55am on a Friday night in mid autumn, Harrison Snow was alerted to a major incident involving experiments being performed on mutants to see if they can use their powers against the marginalised group. Obviously, Lorna neglected her much needed sleep and jumped at the opportunity of saving her people, So here they were running right into complete havoc and wreckage. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Remy soon steps into a similar pace beside Pietro as they head to the chambers the mutants had been held. “I’ll grab the civilians; you will look out and take down any guards.” Pietro pieces together a plan, his eyes scanning the collapsing hallway they had entered. Remy nods along to his explanation. Ending up in front of multiple metal sets of doors, Pietro calls out, “Everybody that’s inside stand to the corner of your cells and away from the doors, help is here.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hearing his teammates words, the Cajun grabs a stack of cards from his pocket and begins to kinetically charge a few. Throwing them with a vibrant pink trail, the two men duck as the cards connect to the doors, blasting them inwards with a harsh clang. As the smoke danced up in the air, figures began rushing out of the mutant occupied cells, talking in a variety of various languages. All of them, however, Pietro could recognise; <em>They were saying thank you. </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Pietro begins running the mutants out towards where their aircraft was stationed to take care of them whilst Remy continued to let mutants out from hell. He could tell the power in the building was about to fail most likely down to Warlock &amp; Doug. </p>
<p>
  <em>Those smart bastards.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As the flickering of ceiling lights became less frequent and longer periods of darkness emerged, Remy hastily begins making his way out of the endless torture maze. Just as he exits the hallway, the power completely fails. Letting out a groan of frustration, he pauses in his steps. Tilting his head around the pitch black halls he tries to find some kind of sign that indicated <em>‘fuck off this way.’ </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>He is about to ask Lorna for directions when a sudden gust of wind knocked him into a wall; partially out of speed, partially out of fear. Remy curses loudly in his foreign tongue. “Jesus <em><strong>fucking</strong></em> Christ, mon Lapin! Someone should put a bell on yo’.” He complains. Pietro simply lets out a soft chuckle that instantly calms his panicked soul ever so slightly. Placing a hand on his teammates shoulder, the runner sighs, “come on, I’ll run us out,” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How de hell are yo’ gonna do ‘dat?” Remy quizzically asks. He hears the male scoff, “I’ve already analysed the entire path of this building; now come on you skittish cat,” the speedster pokes fun at how he so easily jolted the man. Remy wishes he could bat back and say <em>‘it wasn’t yo’ dat’ scared me; it was de dark– but I’m sure if yo’ had de light on I would shrill in fear of yo’ face.’</em> but even then Remy knew that was too big of a lie for him to tell; especially to such a pretty face. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em><strong>Don’t think about quicksilver like that, now is not the time.</strong> </em>His mind scolded himself as though it wasn’t something that occurred regularly. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hmm, alrigh’. By de way, Remy thinks dat’ maybe some lights on yo’ suit could work too.” He finds his way stumbling back upon his smooth LeBeau self to the annoyance of the runner. “I am not putting lights on my suit; it defeats the objective.” The man argues as he swoops his larger teammate onto his back as though they were in third grade taking turns having piggy back rides. Interrupting the twos bickering, both men hear the exasperated voice of their leader down the end of their comms, </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Pietro stop scaring Remy and Remy stop being a <em>little bitch</em>.” Lorna declares followed by what seemingly was a loud boom from her powers. Without another word neither an added warning, Pietro sprints off with the Cajun as luggage on his back. Speeding round corners, Pietro tries his hardest to be as careful as possible with the charmingly difficult man. As Pietro steers them clear of dead ends, Remy flings cards throughout the air at any signs of danger- a few even slamming guards through multiple floors, </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Only then as they enter the lab of the large building does Doug warn of the explosion him and his best friend had got ready to go off which would destroy any data the experimenters had. Reacting as quickly as possible, Pietro sprints out as fire engulfs the entire factory, debris falling upon them all over.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The two finally make their way out of there and as the building blows up, Remy switches their positions so he is in front of Pietro and the two land with a hard <strong><em>‘OOF’</em></strong> onto the gravel and dust clad ground. Ever so slowly does Pietro bring himself up from where they had been flung, falling into a sitting position with an exhausted breath. Turning to look at Gambit who laid beside him, his lips turn into a frown. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Wiping the blood that had coated his hand, Remy winces as he removes it from where it had been compressing a large cut from a fallen piece of rock. The stupid man however merely laughs. “I <em>personally</em> think that worked out pretty well…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re bleeding,” Pietro ignores, concern wiping over the usual features hoarded by his quicksilver face during hero hours. Remy nods slowly in emphasis, “Yes, I am.” He agrees, unfazed by the matter. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Pietro, however, <em><strong>is</strong></em>. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Great work this morning, team; all of you come meet by the plane.” Lorna interjects through the ear pieces. Eyes landing back onto the view of the man that made him feel many conflicting emotions, he stretches his hands out to the thief and helps him up.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The two walk back to the aircraft. And if either noticed the other still entwined their hands within the others, neither would argue against it. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Today was the day many families and friends reunited with their lost loved ones and maybe, just quite possibly, a new love had been found and cemented into fate. </p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>The journey back to serval was brutally long for a speedster such as Pietro. Not only did the team need to bring the kidnapped mutants to the X-Mansion but they also had to travel all the way back from Australia. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Remy &amp; Pietro had both avoided speaking about what happened a week ago; more specifically, Remy tried to open up a conversation and Pietro slammed it right down like a window on thimble fingers.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>For the fourth time on the journey back to serval, Pietro stole a look at the Crazy Cajun who had also opted for the back of the jet (probably because Lorna didn’t want any blood staining the seats). He hated the man for taking the impact of the fall; first of all, Pietro was fast, he could of probably not fallen had it been for the mutants shuffling about on his back &amp; second: Pietro has a fast metabolism therefore he can heal quicker and take heavier blows than most people he knows. It should have been Pietro; Much like how Remy constantly thought it should have been him in the apartment building. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Letting his eyes travel down to his teammates lower abdomen, he can see more blood pooling onto his usual yellow &amp; brown costume. Usually he’d just look away and leave the problem to that person but seemingly with Remy, Pietro no longer had the power to do just that. His eyes twitch down lower along the man’s body, though swiftly being picked back up by the speedster; <strong><em>No,</em></strong> he thought, <strong><em>Remy is playing games with you. </em></strong></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Quite de weapon, hm?” Remy mused, knocking Pietro out of his daydream. Eyes falling directly onto the Cajuns own ruby orbs, he feels himself automatically nod, “Yes I suppose so, got the debris lodged in you pretty bad…” the runner responds. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Gambit grins, “I ain’t talkin’ ‘bout dat’ weapon.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Pietro stares at the man in confusion for a few seconds before his curtain of naivety pulls away. Immediately, He feels his face redden as uninvited images circulate thanks to his immaculate neocortex. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re disgusting.” Pietro mutters as he turns away to look back at the window. He was too tired to argue with the man, too vulnerable to say it wasn't true. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Their suits after all left practically nothing to the imagination. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But yo’ love it,” Remy hums in reply. Keeping his gaze set on the speedster, he leans forward in his seat though ignoring the tear-like pain that shot through his lower abdomen. “Yo’ can’t ignore dis’ forever, Piet–”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“–<em>ro</em>; my name is Pietro.” He insists, attempting to distance the two further from anything personal that they had developed. <em>If he did leave the team for the avengers then at least maybe the feelings would go away?</em> He tries to concentrate on the clouds emerging from within the dark murky sky’s as sunrise dawns upon them. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Cajun however shakes his head, not budging from eye contact. “What are yo’ so scared of?” He honestly asks. Pietro tries his hardest to be stubbornly silent but hearing the others tone he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Flicking his eyes to the corners, he sees the other man’s reflection on the window. He takes a deep breath in. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dragging his eyes away from the dirty chalkboard scenery, his eyes clasp onto the other man’s own. He silently curses. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em> Damn your stupid hypnotic eyes that seemed to tame he storm of my own and your unruly hair that made me want to brush through it for you and charming smirk that has begun to make me weak in the joints– </em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He stops the trail of thoughts before they become more explicit, feeling the deep crimson blush on his cheeks expanding more and more upon his pale complexion. Pietro thanks the heavenly g-d’s for the minimum light that had lit up the back compartment. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Myself.” He sincerely answers. Watching Remy’s face sink into deep thought and something less identifiable, he uses the distraction as an excuse to turn away from him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Staring out towards the morning sky, his mind slowly zones away from the situation. The more the two distanced themselves from each other the more easier it will be to forget any of this ever happened. Pietro wasn’t going to bring up the lengthy hand holding the two had gone through on their journey back to the plane; And yet he was also tempted to do it again. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>His feelings have never been more conflicted; and Pietro was beginning to think he was fighting a war in para to Waterloo.  </p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>12 hours later and Pietro finds the one man he was adamant on ignoring for the remainder of his days occupying the bathroom. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Pietro had headed to the bathroom for a lengthy shower; his muscles were still tense and occupied with the rest of his healing after the serial murderer incident so he had a much needed relaxation hour. However, the Cajun was placed in the middle of the tub with what seemed like a medical kit and towel balancing on the corner. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ghosting against the door, his hand balancing over the handle, he pleads with himself to run away; that he had every chance to escape. But his feet wouldn’t move, no matter how rapid his mind raced even for his own standards. Remy seemed to be fumbling over the stitches, threading the needle through followed by a wince. It didn’t even look like he had even cleaned the incision out. Clenching his eyes shut, he takes a deep breath. This didn’t mean anything, Pietro promised himself. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Pushing the door open, he walks into the tiled room and quietly closes the door with a timid click. Remy’s eyes drive over to where the sound came from though they surprisingly land on a sleek body built for running. Staring at the silver haired speedster, he sighs, “Though’ yo’ wanted t’ stay away.” He solemnly breaks the awkward silence. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Pietro purses his lips. “You need to clean your wound out.” He ignores the Cajun’s first statement, moving forward towards where the man was sat cross legged in the dry bath. Remy shakes his head, “Tsk, it’s okay, I don’t mean t’ bother yo’.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The runner deeply sighs. Pietro surprises Remy when he lifts a leg up and over into the bath, bringing himself into it and sitting down in front. Eye to eye, Pietro grabs the first aid kit. “You helped me a couple weeks ago, I’m <em>just</em> here to help.” Pietro mutters, running some water along a flannel on the side. Remy watches intently, gasping when he feels the cold towel connect onto his stomach. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“S’ yo’ just gonna pretend nothin’ is happenin’?” He says, his tone matching the temperature of the water Pietro had run. Casting his eyes down, the speedster attentively dabs across the open skin. “<em>Remy</em>…” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Jus’ tell me if yo’ feel de same way. Dat is all I ask of yo’. Nothin’ has t’ happen, jus’ tell me de truth.” He says, a hint of pleading in his voice. Pietro stays silent for a few moments, letting the one request fly around his clouded mind. Swallowing down the lump of anxiety blossoming in his throat, he looks up to meet his face. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“..Yes, I do… of <em>course</em> I do but… I can’t- I won’t do anything. As much as I want to I don’t want to lose anything more. I enjoy being around you,” he barely whispers the last remark, dropping the flannel to the base. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Boring his eyes into the speedsters own that replicated a hurricane at sea, he nods reluctantly. “Okay… I can deal with that.” He replies; he may have been lying but it was a lie he would just need to live with. Silence falls once more, the only sounds being made were the soft squeezing of the drenched flannel and hitched breaths from Remy.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The other backs away from the bare torsoed man, “that should be okay.” Pietro announces. Promptly, Pietro stands up from where he had perched and climbs out of the tub, hurriedly making his way to the door. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>As his teammate opens the door to leave not only the room but the possibility of a ‘them’, Remy feels one final urge escape his throat. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“By the way, <em>Pietro?</em>” He calls out quietly. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The man spins around from his spot, looking regretfully at the thief. He can barely form words towards the red orbed man, instead humming for him to continue.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I wouldn’t want to stop being around you. I enjoy your company too.”  He discloses. He has no time to register the look on the speedsters face; only catching the glisten of what seemed like regret surfaced over the man’s eyes. Immediately after this revelation, the man is gone leaving Remy to his own pondering silence. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Picking the needle back up, he intently focuses on the sharp edge in thought. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Would this be blunt enough to sew the growing empty hole in his heart Pietro was slowly chipping away at? </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Pre-Written [September]<br/>Enjoy this pre-written chapter, number 5 is quittee the big one. School has really drained my energy out and I’m so glad I’ve got two more pre written chapters. The next time I’ll be posting is in two weeks time as I want to leave myself a month to write another chapter. Thank you very much for the kudos &amp; hits and I hope to be able to go through any unread comments soon. All of this make me feel very soft :) I hope you enjoyed this character ❤️</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Never Again.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chaos had erupted in Serval Industries after their pathetic excuse of a press conference. Originally the publicity was meant to bring in new clients to sponsor the team as well as create more popularity onto the heroes. But as soon as Pietro Maximoff was given an open mic; all those hopes had perished. The speedster admitted live on air the crimes he had committed; though his intentions had been good. </p><p> </p><p>Soon after it had ended, Remy had searched far and wide within the building for the man. As he watched the other man’s soul pool out, he felt as though he had ripped a blood vessel within his own body. It reminded him too well of his terrible mistake towards the morlocks– a mistake he continued to make up for each and every minute of the day. </p><p> </p><p>It was when Lorna and he had both finished their arguing to Snow as to why Pietro should stay on the team that Remy realised he had a problem.</p><p> </p><p>A very big problem. </p><p> </p><p>When he told Pietro that he wouldn’t chase him about their situation and he’d leave it be, he knew that it would be difficult to stay away. Now, he felt the need to bubble wrap the fragile runner. But Remy had also promised to step away at a time where he underestimated his ‘crush’ on the speedster. </p><p> </p><p>Say a 40% consumption of time? No it was 250%. </p><p> </p><p>He no longer was able to just stand aside and watch him fall apart- after all, his feelings had started to affect the way he worked, slept, ate; hell, practically he was struggling to get through a day without plaguing worries for the one person he shouldn’t (couldn’t) ever get along with. </p><p> </p><p>And then the team found out he was indeed just spying for the avengers (more so alex). But Remy just couldn’t bring himself to be angry at the man once he really looked at him up upon that podium expressing all the lies he had fed the press concerning past mistakes. Remy wanted to run up there, to shield him from hungry eyes filled with hatred. He wanted to protect the man and place a kiss to his lips just so he knew he had somebody still there for him even through the now open revelations. </p><p> </p><p>It was currently 7pm and Remy was growing all the more worried over Pietro’s whereabouts. He hadn’t seen him once since the failed PR stunt. Remy watched with clouded eyes as the rain continued to pour down from outside, the only protection from the tormenting weather being the four walls that emitted heat back to the Cajun. </p><p> </p><p>All of a sudden, his eyes fall onto a small figure with familiar silver hair sitting around outside their main building. Letting a grumble of disapproval leave his lips, Remy grabs his consistently worn out coat and bolts out of his bedroom to the oddly frozen-in-place  speedster. Appearing outside the modern housing, he skids over as casually as possible without jolting the other. </p><p> </p><p>Pietro looks away when Remy sits down beside him. Looking the other over, he notices how his silver hair clings to his forehead and how his clothes were fully soaked through. A frown grows on his lips and he hurriedly pulls his own coat around Pietro’s own shoulders. </p><p> </p><p>Pietro would have argued- he really would have. But he was just too tired. </p><p> </p><p>Instead, Remy is the first to break their awkward silence.</p><p> </p><p>“Yo’ are not a bad person, Pietro.” Remy begins, catching a flicker of emotion flash across his face for a split second. Pietro’s jaw slacks tensely, “You don’t know that.” </p><p> </p><p>“I do.” Remy insists not taking his eyes off of him. </p><p> </p><p>“How? What do you know of the things I’ve done? The people I’ve hurt?” Pietro grills, his tone forming into similar ice found in his birthplace. The Cajun shakes his head, eyes hardening, “Cus’ yo’ didn’t mean t’ hurt em– I know dis’ cus I did somethin’ jus’ as bad.” He confesses strongly though his voice still slightly wavered by the end. </p><p> </p><p>The speedster looks up at Remy, his eyes widening deep in thought as water falls onto his long eyelashes. “I know what you did, Remy, and it is not the same—” </p><p> </p><p>“Might not be, mon Lapin, but we both though’ we were helpin’.” He interrupts, the red eyed man sternly looking at him. The silver haired man takes a deep breath in, gathering his thoughts as thunder churned in the near distance. The two turn away, staring silently back around the scenery around them as wind rattles against metal walls and rain engulfes the green grass.</p><p> </p><p>“Luna came to see me after the press conference.. she wants to live with me here.” Pietro utters, fiddling with his paley tanned hands. The Cajun turns to look back at him, his very own features lifting into a smile, “Dat’ is good, hm?” The runner shrugs in response, pulling at his own slim fingers. “Yes, I suppose.. It's just been a long time and I’ve thinked lot during this year of absence away from her…  I think it would be best if she stayed with her mother. She’d be more safe there and I wouldn’t get the chance to let her down again– because I will, subconsciously I always find a way.” He confesses hollowly, slowly ripping into himself. </p><p> </p><p>Remy crosses his arms, the happiness soon falling from his face as the words let the other man’s throat. “Why would yo’ say dat’? The girl loves yo’ an–</p><p> </p><p>“I’m just not a good person, okay?” Pietro insists, cutting his teammate off before he could speak anymore. </p><p> </p><p>“An’ dat is why yo’ won’t let me in?” He pounced. Pietro’s head spins up to meet his. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He swiftly replies, voice growing numb to hide the wavering emotions he was feeling as he stared at the others face. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Tell me I’m lyin’.” Remy repeats his line of questioning, looking quizzically at the middle Magnus child in a mixture of interest and concern. By now Pietro is staring daggers at him as he spoke, retreat, retreat! His mind screamed above all else though his legs refused to move in sync. He was in a loosing battle; and he was growing tired of taming his feelings for the Cajun. </p><p> </p><p>“No, you’re not. But that’s besides the point; I am my father's son. I was not born to be good. I am harsh and I can be quick tempered and hell have mercy on me when I say I’m impatient. I am an expired confetti bomb of messes that cannot and refuses to be cleaned up.” Pietro bitterly explains, his tone hard and cold like magnetism.</p><p> </p><p>Remy wishes to blow the final piece of metal exterior of quicksilver away; quicksilver was arrogant, Pietro Maximoff thought so little of himself. Remy wanted to change that- if he had it his way he’d scream it at the top of his lungs. </p><p> </p><p>“No, actually. Yo’ are not yo’ fathers son. Yo’ are Pietro Maximoff. Yo’ have de mutant ability t’ runner at de speed of sound. Yo’ are considerate an’ carin’– an’ from what Remy’s obserbed,,  yo’ are also brilliant.” He begins in a rant, airing all the dirty laundry he has been hoarding these past three or so months. “Yo’ say yo’ are your fathers son but yo’ do not see what I see. Remy sees a beautiful man wit’ a sickenly angelic complexion and’ silver hair dat’ looks as though it were a projection of de moon. When yo’ smile an’ be yo’self yo’ do not look like yo’ father. Instead, yo’ look crazy hot an’ more so kind.” He rambles on though his words have never been more true. As he said all the things that had been piling up in mind it felt so good- and knowing the speedster would know that he cares for him sent a shock through his chest. </p><p> </p><p>“Of course I like quicksilver, he saves de day an’ he saves my ass too. But, I like Pietro Maximoff more. Yo’ don’t have t’ hide from me.” He says, tone pleading by the last sentence. </p><p> </p><p>Pietro was staring at him, emotions falling on and off his face just as quickly as he ran. Now his feelings were speedily rampaging around his body, making his already quick heart bounce around his chest and he swore he would go in cardiac arrest the way things were going as Gambit truefully confessed all about his feelings to him. </p><p> </p><p>He’d never learn until he died from it, his mind told himself as a dark warning. He let Magneto in and he spent most of his days beating Pietro to mere death; he let the avengers in and they used him as their personal Uber; he let crystal in on his already wavering trust and she cheated on him twice, his love and giving his all never being enough. </p><p> </p><p>Pietro himself was never any good at talking nor controlling his impulses, something the avengers had always scolded him for. He knew they would scold him for what happens next too. </p><p> </p><p>He’d let everybody in only for them to chip and shatter pieces of his heart away until there’s only one piece left. </p><p> </p><p>And Pietro Maximoff was naive enough to bank on keeping that last piece with a notorious thief. </p><p> </p><p>Placing his hands on the Remy’s face, he smashes his lips against his own letting all the compressed feelings for the Cajun come out in raw emotion. </p><p> </p><p>Remy is pleasantly surprised, electric shock shooting through his nervous system as their body’s connected. At the other man’s touch he felt ecstasy- his kissing being even better than Remy had dreamed. As soft as his lips were, they were strong and fought long and hard with sharp emotion. Quickly, Remy responds with just as much energy and hunger as the other man. His hands travel to the base of the others neck, pulling him all the more closer. </p><p> </p><p>For the first time, for Pietro it seemed as though the world had stopped. Kissing Remy was dangerous and something he knew he wouldn’t be able to come back from. But Pietro always lived dangerously. But deep in his stomach ugly thoughts and feelings grew. </p><p> </p><p>Memories of the club, lingering looks between Remy and Rogue, the knowing emotion that he’d never be satisfied with Pietro and that he was just an experience Remy had told himself was more. The Cajun had charmed his way into his lips and as he continued to kiss him, the dreaded poison of doubt sweeped further. </p><p> </p><p>Finally coming for air, Remy pulls away from the kiss letting his hands ever so slightly graze against soft skin. However, as soon as his eye lids lift he is greeted with an empty space in front of him which as originally occupied by the runner. Sighing loudly, Remy lets himself fall back onto the ground, not caring for whether he catched a cold or not; He knew in time Pietro would come back and that he’d just locked himself into a long enduring clasp. Letting his eyes fall back shut, he for now imagines back to how drenched lips and soft delicate skin felt against his own, how they passionately kissed in the rain; how his body craved for more. Taming his thoughts from anything further, he simply smiles with what he’s got. </p><p> </p><p>Meanwhile, Pietro runs beyond the speed he’s capable of. He skids across oceans as well as deep snow caked across the Antarctic floor. He doesn’t pause to stop as he loops around the globe multiple times continuing the gruelling pace as though his feelings for Remy would just fall out from the impact. They don’t. He screams at himself endlessly for letting himself have what he wanted; it was cursed to end badly with him involved and he found himself still doubting the others feelings towards him. He’d just enthralled himself into a loosing battle and one day he’ll only have himself to blame. </p><p> </p><p>But as thoughts of the kiss lingered back across his mind, his body buzzed with nervous energy. There was no doubt in his mind against all warnings that he enjoyed the kiss. He needed to bubble wrap the single shard of his heart and soul left in his body for all that was to come; Because what worried him the most was that there was neither doubt that he’d do it again. </p><p>Numbing the panic that was entering his chest; he swears <em>never again</em>. He won’t- <em>can’t</em> have another heartbreak. <br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Pre Written [September]<br/>—<br/>They’ve finally kissed!! I can’t believe I’m 1/4 or so done with this fic. Luckily I’ve written up two chapters (parts 4&amp;5) and I may be able to write one more to post gradually. Thank you so much for the kudos, comments and hits!💕💕</p><p>— [october]<br/>i said two weeks somewhere and it’s nearly been a month, im so sorry so uh...see you 2021?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Again</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Time for an ultimatum; A leap of faith*</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>*off a cliff, but details, details.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p><b> <em>Never again, </em> </b> <em> Pietro Maximoff had promised himself.  </em></p><p> </p><p>Never again would he let his defences down for something as selfish and stupid as a kiss. Now look what he’s done, he’s opened up a cage that cannot be locked up again. The monster that is his feelings is hungry and has been deprived for too long; and now it’s finally been let out. Time and time again Pietro gets hurt by somebody he stupidly allowed in; time and time again it’s also his fault too. </p><p> </p><p><em> Do better </em> , He had promised himself. <b>He hadn’t followed through with that either. </b></p><p> </p><p>As soon as he had bolted from where the two had kissed, Pietro had sworn to focus merely on his sisters, team &amp; daughter.All throughout the night, he had set up a perfect bedroom for Luna to sleep in for when she would appear the next month. He hadn’t been able to sleep and covering ceilings and walls with wallpaper all the while building Ikea furniture (Pietro’s very own version of a Rubik’s cube) and it had been satisfying enough as his mind was only rarely falling back into thoughts of the Cajun. </p><p> </p><p>Pietro knew that when Luna would show up, all his worries would seem to fall to the back of his mind. If it wasn’t for the nagging in his chest, he’d of never guessed anything had been wrong and that life was on a slow growing line back up to stability. </p><p> </p><p>But stability comes with the uncertainty of happiness. </p><p> </p><p>As strong as Pietro has become through his 29 years of life, his weakness beneath it all always was how too easy it is for him to care. His hard quicksilver exterior and cold act was all taught by the man he now knows as his father. Before, though, he was gullible- <b> <em>too much like his mother and that in the end it would kill him too</em> </b>- his uncle Django had confessed after the 9th stray kitten Pietro had saved. </p><p> </p><p>So when he ended up beneath a familiar warm body and pressed into creased bedding, he knew that he was reverting back to the weak mindset he had before the brotherhood; the one that was getting him beaten and nearly killed. </p><p> </p><p>However his body and mind seemed to simultaneously be suicidal and adrenaline kicked in and shouted <b> <em>‘MORE!’</em> </b> and it was the same story when each time he walked out of the thief’s bedroom saying <b> <em>‘never again.’ </em> </b>And each time he retreated back he let another brick from his collapsing wall of protection be stolen by Remy LeBeau. </p><p> </p><p>Kisses turned into hungry friction which then turned into entwining figures and ended with withering bodies. </p><p> </p><p>This circle of actions and consequences continued throughout the following two weeks; Pietro fiercely promising not to come back yet retreating into Remy’s strong arms with lips that planted passionate kisses and whispered sweet little nothings as he clasped onto the others shoulders in lustful anticipation. </p><p> </p><p>Remy’s lips continued to kiss marks across his bare neck and in that moment Pietro never wanted it to end. These few hours with the man were the only time he had to forget the regrets that would brew after. For now he enjoyed all the freedom he was receiving;</p><p> </p><p>Pietro also enjoyed feeling loved. </p><p> </p><p>Soft shadowing lips grazed upon his pale skin and as Remy lowered down his body leaving a trail of faint kisses as though he were engraving a constellation of his admiration and care for the speedster, Pietro let his eyes fall back as his spine shivered in ecstasy. </p><p> </p><p><b>Feelings do make him weak; </b> <em> but for now he would surrender.  </em></p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p><em> By now it was 3’oclock in the morning, and Pietro </em> <b> <em>knew</em> </b> <em> he should have left by this time. </em></p><p> </p><p>He had awoken from his deep slumber after they had finished their dubious ‘activities’. At first he was disturbed by another arm firmly wrapped around his waist and holding him close as though he were some guarded artifact snow had kept protected downstairs. But when Pietro flickered his cerulean eyes across, he found his lover(?) being the owner of such possession. </p><p> </p><p>He knew he shouldn’t be here by now. He had never stayed the night as much as Remy had wished. But as the runner lies comfortably with one of the other man’s hands across his lower half and the other deeply combed through his silver curls, Pietro feels himself being emotionally tethered to Remy and in conjunction; his bed.</p><p> </p><p>He allowed this short period of time to reflect on their relationship; for starters there was no point in running anymore. It had become apparent that Pietro would keep coming back to the Cajun as soon as the panic wore off or his ache for him became too much all over again.</p><p> </p><p>But Pietro also wanted to hang out normally, to be able to talk like they used to. And because Pietro couldn’t define what this thing was that they were sharing: the two men hadn’t been able to. Pietro was too scared and Remy didn’t want to rock the boat. He well and truly wanted to get back to their old ways whilst continuing this new emotional journey with the man. </p><p> </p><p>And it was then Pietro realised he had to risk his all to have what he wanted. He was going to have to issue himself heartbreak in the long run whether he tried this or not; it had been this last tryst that he realised that he’d also been hurting Remy too. It was ridiculous that all in one night he had realised no matter how much he pushed him away and told him how he wasn’t good enough of a man for him; </p><p> </p><p>Remy knew all that the world knew about Pietro and he still liked him and opened his arms for him. </p><p> </p><p>So, he decided to take a leap of faith. No more fighting, no more hiding. He was going to be selfish for once; he knew after all he was still going to break in the end. He trusted Remy; he just <em> didn’t </em> trust himself. But that wasn’t the other man’s fault and so as he stared up at the faintly lit ceiling, he allowed himself to surrender and therefore in the morning Remy would know Pietro had been defeated and that he in tow had won their war of brawling hearts. </p><p> </p><p>Shifting in his place, he hesitantly lays an arm over the other's body. Pietro didn’t like being tangled up in a situation he could not run from– But he was willing to take that risk for him. </p><p> </p><p><em> By now it was 4’oclock in the morning and Pietro </em> <b> <em>knew</em> </b> <em> that he wanted to stay.  </em></p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The November sunrise was something so nurturing that Pietro never understood its power over his own soul. </p><p> </p><p>Leaning his back against the side of his teammates bed, he stretched his legs in front of him as he sat on the frazzled carpet. Looking out and over to the rising sun, he watched as murky pink mixed with orange and started meeting yellow. He hadn’t left like he’d promised himself the night previous- he had waited for the man to wake up like he’d told himself. Once Remy would be conscious he would explain his change of heart. </p><p> </p><p>Minutes passed and Pietro breathed deeply in thought to himself. Unlike other days where he would wake up alone in his bed; he didn’t feel regret or disgust with himself. Instead, he felt joy and a tingle of excitement rising and bubbling in his stomach. As well as symptoms of happiness he felt less enthusiastic warnings of nervousness as he felt bile seemingly fighting to leave his throat. </p><p> </p><p>His skin responds eagerly when it feels familiar fingers contact his skin, strongly placing themselves upon his shoulders and making his jaw slack. </p><p> </p><p>Perching beside him, Remy wraps a light blanket over the speedsters frame— He doesn’t move his arm around his shoulders even when he lets go of the fabric. </p><p> </p><p>Pietro speaks first, “I’m sorry for how I’ve been these past months.” </p><p> </p><p>Twisting his head around to face the runner, Remy nods earnestly. “Yea’, it’s not de <em> best </em> feelin’ t’ be messed abou’ like dat’. Yo’ have quite de hold on me.” He admits, eyes darting back down to his lap. Pietro frowns. </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t want to play any more cat and mouse. I want <em> this </em> to be over.” Pietro decisively states, lifting his head in difference to his nightly partner beside him. The Cajun doesn’t respond, instead playing with his hands. Pietro can, however, see the other muscles tense in his arms and stomach. </p><p> </p><p>Remy shallowly breathes out, “Was dis’ how it was always gonna be? Yo’ were jus’ gonna get de experience an’ then deny de way yo’ feel? I’m sorry, Pietro, but I ain’t allowin’ dis’ kind of mind fuckery yo’ are doin’.” He rants, taking Pietro aback. </p><p> </p><p>This time however Pietro crosses his arms, eyes slitting more in narrowed confusion and anger, “What are <em> you </em> on about? I want to stop this cat and mouse game so we can <b> <em>properly</em> </b> give this a go!” Pietro argues. Immediately, Remy’s eyes widen in realisation. Slipping his arm away from Pietro, he holds his hands up in surrender, “ <em> Oh Mon Lapin… </em> I thought yo’ were endin’ dis’...”</p><p> </p><p>“Until last night, so was I..” Pietro admits quietly. </p><p> </p><p>“S’... how do yo’ want dis’ t’ work?” Remy asks, looking a lot more calmly at the runner. Pulling his legs up and to his chest, Pietro sighs, “Honestly? I don’t want the others to know- at least not <em> yet </em> . I want to be with you without having outside interference ruin what this is...because right now I <em> don’t </em> want to lose it.” He confesses, swallowing down a lump of bile that had built in his throat. </p><p> </p><p>Remy’s lips twist into a smile- he nods. “Okay. Does dis’ mean yo’ will stay wit’ Remy a little longer after we <em> yo’ know...? </em> ” He softly muses, pulling the speedster swiftly in between his legs and pulling his back close to Remy’s own chest. Startled by the movement, Pietro quickly recovers and leans back against him and lets the other rest his head onto his shoulder. He sighs in slight dramatics, peering up at him. “I <b> <em>suppose</em> </b> I’ll have to...” </p><p> </p><p>Remy’s smile turns into a playful smirk, “Dat’ is <em> very </em> good t’ know…”</p><p> </p><p>The two plunge into a comfortable silence and watch as calm winds breeze against tree branches and scatter leafs among the pavements. </p><p> </p><p>Whilst Pietro continues to navigate his eyes along the scenery splayed out in front of the two, Remy’s mind wanders itself to a place of contempt and confusion. He hates to break their relaxing peace, but thoughts and questions rush through his mind; ones that need answering before they fully go in. </p><p> </p><p>“A couple weeks back… yo’ said yo’ were scared of yo’self...why?” He unforeseenly asks. Pietro’s eyes stay put, though the window reflects the pain that his eyes morph through. </p><p> </p><p>Pietro releases a heavy breath. “Because, whenever I want things to go <em> right </em> , I make them go <b>wrong</b> . I may not be the one inflicting pain on myself but I <em> am </em> the one being weak enough to lower my boundaries for those to come in and do their scarred workings. I’m scared of myself because I’m worried that not only will I hurt myself once more, but more importantly that I’ll end up hurting <b> <em>you</em> </b> in the process too.” He explains delicately. </p><p> </p><p>Remy nods along, rubbing a hand over the runners own toned shoulder. “Yo’ don’t need t’ worry wit’ me; I <b> <em>promise</em> </b> t’ keep yo’ feelin’ comfortable.” He swears, feeling muscles under his own hands relaxing ever so slightly. </p><p> </p><p>“I know… but I’m going to need to get used to this type of...new communication. I’m out of my depth here and it’s always been tempting to just fall into my safe routine; to leave this team and run back to the Avengers, to try and fix things with Crystal; make things right with Luna as well as Wanda. It's <em> so </em> much easier this way because I’ve been there all before and it won’t hurt me anymore then it already has. But <b> <em>this? </em> </b> This is new and I like it and I’m terrified of it all at the same time. Every single time I try and take something for myself it never ends well; and quite frankly <b>neither</b> do I deserve better.” Pietro lets out, balling out all the reasons behind his reluctance. Not only was Remy shocked at his openness but so was Pietro himself. </p><p> </p><p>Tightening his grip around the other man’s waist, Remy uses a free hand to clasp underneath the speedsters chin, bringing the man to face him. Aqua to ruby; it wasn’t like before in the club. There wasn’t boiling tension and internal anger seeping between the two. Right here, right now, there was only a promise; <em> be honest.  </em></p><p> </p><p>“I want dis’ t’ be yo’ safe routine. I want t’ be de’ one yo’ can come t’ when things get tough. Yo’ want t’ know why? Yo’ <b> <em>do</em> </b> deserve dis’.” Remy soothes, lightly brushing a finger against his skin. Pietro’s eyes look back at him dilated with raw emotions.</p><p> </p><p>“When are yo’ needed next, Cher?” Remy asks. “Lunch time.” The silver haired man of the two responds. </p><p> </p><p>Remy‘s grin grows, “Well <em> then </em>…” Remy whispers raspily looking back down at his new lover. Leaning down, he places a light kiss against soft lips. Opening his mouth, he whispers against them. </p><p> </p><p>“What t’ do wit’ a free mornin’?”</p><p> </p><p>As the sun rises and the day goes on, so do their promises to one another. So when night falls with glowing stars dancing upon the sky, Pietro is contempt with his change of heart. So when he hears his lovers own heartbeat against his ear as the two lay against one another in Remy’s bed; Pietro feels <strong><em>safe</em></strong>.</p><p>And when all is said and done and the two have fallen into deep sleep, Pietro’s dreams spoke to him with a new prophecy he would willingly grant as true. </p><p> </p><p><b> <em>Again</em> </b> <em> , Pietro Maximoff would promise himself.  </em></p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
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</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>He do be lying though.</p><p>Quick conflict because this is a 20 chapter planned fic and I have too much to come oops?</p><p>I have a 5k chapter coming up as I feel very bad for not having time to write (the next chapter took a whole month to complete)<br/>I’m not posting my next chapter probably till next month  (but possibly 2 idk,, a few during winter break.)</p><p>I hope you enjoyed this part and I swear more fluff is to come (making up for what’s to come mwahahaha...)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Shakespeare’s Anguish</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lorna is getting suspicious and Luna is sickened by the UK. </p><p> </p><p>(As she should.)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I really hate you.” Pietro growls. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh really?” Remy quirks an eyebrow as the two make their way inside the team's housing. Throwing his arms around the other man’s shoulders, he brings his lips to pale ears that redden at the new found presence. </p><p> </p><p>“Dat wasn’t what yo’ were sayin’ dis’ mornin’.” </p><p> </p><p>110 days after the incident with the serial mutant murderer, 95 days since they officially became an item &amp; 89 days since their first kiss Remy and Pietro seemed to have grasped two different states of being. Around their teammates, friends &amp; family the other was simply somebody that they had to deal with. But when the two were around one another, that was when masks were able to be disposed of among other items and such…</p><p> </p><p>Back to more appropriate matters, their favourite mutant murderer had escaped SHIELD &amp; because of this the team had to go after him once more. It was only after three hours of non-stop battling weapons and whatever creatures the madman had set loose in contribution to his escape that they cornered the murdering scum for good and had him taken somewhere much more secure. </p><p> </p><p>Pietro had wondered why people in his field still trusted SHIELD in this day and age. </p><p> </p><p>And so the team has come back from an emotionally and physically draining mission that had even worn Pietro out.</p><p> </p><p>Lightly shoving the taller male off of him, Pietro saunters through the front door with goo coated all over him to the dismay of Lorna Dane. </p><p> </p><p>“Pietro! Remy! Do you remember what I said about fighting?” Their leader shouts out following close behind with Doug, Warlock &amp; Danger in tow. </p><p> </p><p>“Polaris I believe the tension is not from fighting but–”</p><p> </p><p>The speedster interrupts Danger like lightning, shooting to stand right in front of his sister. Lorna’s face screws up as slime slaps against her cheeks from the force of her brother's mutation. “I’m very sorry sister, but you know what he’s like.” He seeks sympathy as a means to escape Dangers sudden confession. Danger all the while isn’t fazed and walks away as though she hadn’t nearly dropped the two men in deep deep trouble. </p><p> </p><p>Remy chokes back a laugh, eyes falling down to the floor as inappropriate responses to Pietro’s statement fills his head. ‘Not really- she's not de one sleepin’ wit’ me’ he wants to say aloud; but Pietro wasn’t ready and Remy knew that deep down he wasn’t either. </p><p> </p><p>Lorna looks between the two of them. Spinning around to Doug, she raises an eyebrow. “Now why do you still want to be on a team with these two?” </p><p> </p><p>Laughing awkwardly at the odd question, Doug shrugs, “Uh...free accommodation? No Xavier?” </p><p> </p><p>Lorna cracks a smile. “Ah, yes. That’s why we’re here. I need that reminder every now and then.” Giving one last odd look towards her brother and friend, Lorna turns back on her toes &amp; the green haired mutant strides off in the direction of their single bathroom. Pietro goes along with his sister, his scowl dispersing with each step. </p><p> </p><p>Doug continues staring at Remy, his eyebrows knitted in deep thought. Remy raises one of his own. “What yo’ thinkin’?” </p><p> </p><p>The linguist doesn’t say a word as realisation dawns. “Nothing…Just a really really weird mission.” He ends the sentence with a laugh just to emphasise that he is totally not taken aback and totally not in shock… </p><p> </p><p>Luckily Remy is not Pietro; Remy is gullible. </p><p> </p><p>The Cajun smiles. “Good, good. Now Remy needs t’ get dis’ goo off of ‘im<em> . </em>See yo’ later.” The man walks off with his hands in his slime socked pockets that probably destroyed his plain pack of cards he usually kept in there. </p><p> </p><p>Doug continues to watch on, letting his eyes fall wide at what he had just witnessed. His mutation was unique, but now he just thinks he’s cursed… </p><p> </p><p>Coming from behind Doug, Warlock tilts his head in confusion. “Self doesn’t understand- is self getting this right, self friend?” </p><p> </p><p>The blonde can only nod. <br/>
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</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“Why do we have to explain why Shakespeare used a certain word when describing Romeo’s love for Juliet?” Luna Maximoff, aged 11 years old, asks her father later that afternoon- eyes rolling back under her shaded (power dampening) glasses. </p><p> </p><p>Pietro could see what the girl got from her mother; her beauty, kindness &amp; all round goodness of her heart and that solely had to be a result of Crystal– after all Pietro couldn't find any of that in himself. But Pietro couldn’t deny that his daughter took after him in genius and logic. By the time she was two, the girl could already stem a logical argument alike to those that Pietro would have with the Avengers,</p><p> </p><p>(Which was likely because she overheard them; yet another checkbox to tick on pokemons ‘shittiest father list’.)</p><p> </p><p>Regardless, Pietro was beyond proud of Luna and all she had achieved in her few eleven years on earth (the moon, space, anywhere etc etc the list is too long for even Pietro so the default of earth will just have to do.) and so when he’s given the chance to assist her with any homework he grasps at it. </p><p> </p><p>Luna had appeared the day after Remy and Pietro’s last serious talk. The speedster had been worried that his kid would find out straight away what was going on between his &amp; Remy’s not so straight relationship and he didn’t want her to be confused or tell anybody else.</p><p> </p><p>(Definitely not her mother. He loves Crystal, he really does, but she couldn’t know– if she found out he was dating Remy she’d definitely say Luna is unsafe around him.) </p><p> </p><p>“It helps the examiner know that you understand the content of your course.” Pietro explains as clearly as he can remember; he himself had never taken an exam therefore he had found himself looking down at the specification that the Braddock school had given each student. </p><p> </p><p>After two reads &amp; an hour spent going through the entire course content, Pietro feels pretty equipped to help her. </p><p> </p><p>Luna shakes her head, kicking her impatient feet in the air where she sat- a habit she clearly learnt from her father and cousin. </p><p> </p><p>“Yes, but, Shakespeare didn’t say a specific word because he wanted to, he just used it because it sounded alright. So the examiner expecting us to say ‘he compared Juliet to white doves because it symbolises her innocence’ is bullshit—“</p><p> </p><p>“Luna!”</p><p> </p><p>“—and highly disrespectful to Shakespeare. Maybe he just mentioned doves because he loves doves therefore had Romeo compare Juliet to doves as a sign of love?” </p><p> </p><p>Pietro sighs, leaning back into the kitchen table seat. “You’re an incredibly difficult and intelligent child, you understand that right?” </p><p> </p><p>“I know,” Luna shrugs with a smile glued upon her face. Pietro can’t help but smile back even when his limbs were aching to run. </p><p> </p><p>But Luna needed his help &amp; he’d stop a thousand more years just so she can get her work done. </p><p> </p><p>“Why is it that I have to do exams when I’m 16? Valeria said that she doesn’t do the same exams as I’m going to do in four or five years time.” Luna speaks again, beginning another off topic conversation about her friend. </p><p> </p><p>“That’s because you’re at the braddock school in the uk.” Pietro answers, peering down at her work. </p><p> </p><p>“Val doesn’t even need to do the exams she’s getting a degree—“</p><p> </p><p>“—And if you want a degree, you’ll continue your English.” Pietro smoothly intervenes, moving her work back over in front of her. He was after all a very logical man and he knew very well his daughter needed to get a good English grade. </p><p> </p><p>Luna sighs in defeat. “Can I at least skip school tomorrow? My teacher wants to talk about the monarchy in history.” </p><p> </p><p>“<b> <em>absolutely</em> </b>.” Pietro says in a less logical tone.</p><p> </p><p>No harm would come from this; Pietro would teach her unbiased history after all.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Remy had been watching the scene unfold, a towel in one hand as he dried his damp brunette locks of hair and his other hand against the warm wood as he balanced himself just behind the door frame. </p><p> </p><p>Seeing Pietro stop and take his time with Luna was a refreshing sight for sore eyes; Remy understood that the speedster found it hard to stop and wait- rarely did he do that for <b> <em>anyone</em> </b>. So looking at the two Maximoff’s, he could see just how much love was radiating off Pietro &amp; he didn’t even need Luna’s powers to see it either. </p><p> </p><p>Remy revelled in seeing Pietro happy. A part of the Cajun knew however that he was now in dangerous territory. His feelings for the mutant male had progressed faster than he’d expected. Only three months ago Remy wanted to punch and kiss his stupid face; now he just wanted to kiss him and punch anyone that tried to punch him instead. Now because of his ironically quicksilver feelings towards Pietro developing more and more every hour, Remy was finding it harder and harder to compress their relationship for their own presence and eyes only. </p><p> </p><p>It was only on today’s mission when Pietro had gotten slightly hurt- a bloody nose, <b> <em>really</em> </b>- but it still took all Remy’s attention &amp; strength to not go over and smother the man with affection and adoration. Remy really should be drowned up to his eye sockets in dread for how strong his feelings were. </p><p> </p><p>Instead he is ecstatic; Pietro made him feel energised in ways even his powers could not. </p><p> </p><p>Pietro suddenly moves out of his seat with a slight screech coming from the rough contact between the table and tiles. Placing a soft kiss on his daughters forehead, the speedster begins to make his way out of the kitchen. Fluidly like the thief Remy is acclaimed to be, he steals the silver haired mutant away from his new set destination and instead drags him into an empty and unclothed room. </p><p> </p><p>Pietro raises an eyebrow at him, “Was that necessary?”</p><p> </p><p>Remy merely shrugs in response. “Yo’ were de’ one dat’ said yo’ hated me…” </p><p> </p><p>“I- you’re insufferable. Truly, you are,” Pietro emphasises though a smile tightens at the edges of his rosebud lips. Remy can’t help but lick his bottom lip at the sight. Instead of acting on suggestive thoughts, he simply grins. “Friday night, meet at Central Park, Hm?” He asks with an underlying tone of want; a possible 1% stray of desperation to spend 1-1 time together. </p><p> </p><p>But Remy was not the desperate type...<b> <em>Right? </em> </b></p><p> </p><p>“Now <em> why </em> would I want to do that?” Pietro quirks questionably. Grin growing, Remy places a warm electrified palm onto the speedsters neck. Pietro doesn’t flinch away. Moving in closer, Remy makes sure his eyes stay glued to the others own, his blinds of amusement that covered his eye sockets drawing aside to release his true need and want. </p><p> </p><p>“Trust me,” he whispers softly. </p><p> </p><p>Staring up at the taller man, Pietro looks at Remy with thoughts circling among his mind; who would look after Luna? What if somebody sees? Why does he even want to go to a park? Brushing aside those thoughts, Pietro instead lets his eyes fall shut and places a strong but simple kiss to Cajun lips. </p><p> </p><p>Remy lavishes in the simplistic action, letting both hands cup the others soft yet humid face. All doubt seeped away from Pietro- as though Remy were a leech that had sucked all the venomous and poisonous worries out of his blood system. </p><p> </p><p>Slowly pulling away, Pietro twists his lips into a small smile. “Fine, only because you’d mope if I said otherwise.” </p><p> </p><p>The two look back into the kitchen to see Georgia and Luna. </p><p> </p><p>“You know, I think Shakespeare might of just described Juliet as a dove because back then they didn’t really have many other words in literature. I think it’s because we’re smarter than him now that we just pretend he meant something more contextual to make him seem like a legend.” </p><p> </p><p>“Luna I don’t think that’s it, my homeschooling teacher said it was more to do with religious connotations.”  Georgia responds, naive energy oozing off her. </p><p> </p><p>Luna however groans, head dropping into her hands. </p><p> </p><p>“I hate this school.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I decided to write fluff but this was originally an 5.6k chapter but things have been heavy lately therefore I decided to half it. The chapter title is just something I randomly thought of when putting the chapter up so sorry for it not making much sense to remypietro though I suppose you could say Shakespeare is in anguish because star crossed lovers with an ill fated end will alter such fate and therefore break his rules of tragedy....</p><p> </p><p>Or just Shakespeare absolutely despising the British education system.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. What Happens When Two Clowns Go On A Date?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>... A circus occurs.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Friday night couldn’t have come any sooner. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Remy walked into the living quarters he was greeted by Lorna’s famed quizzical stare down. Harshly swallowing down a large lump that had formed in his throat, the Cajun looked back at his friend with a matched cartoon glisten of the eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yo’ like Remy’s look?” He smugly asks. In all honesty he did half find it interesting what lorna had to say about his choice of outfit, she was after all more similar to Pietro then others could admit (the two, however angry they were at the other, knew they were far too alike to insult the others behaviour.). In the end, the thief had settled for the simple white button up blouse, not too skinny jeans (his egotistical side would say the choice was out of easy access if you get his flow..) and some classy as can be top tier plimsolls. To top it all off (literally), he layered his outfit with his lucky as can be classic jacket that he totally needed to sew again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Snapping back into reality, he watches as the mistress of magnetism herself rolls her eyes with a groan of annoyance. “Yes, Remy, you look dashing.” She responds with a specific sudden interest. Remy merely grins, “Thank yo’, Lor. Remy always admires yo’ opinion- ‘specially hair an stuff.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He motions towards her green jungle of curls. Amusement is finally drawn out of Lorna, a smile puppeteering onto her tired lips. “Ah yes, I couldn’t be bothered to tame them.” She shrugs, sitting up in her spot on the couch. Brushing a hand through said curls, she lets out an exhausted sigh. “It’s been a long couple months, I’m not going out tonight so there’s no point in you know, straightening them.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well I personally think dat’ yo’ classic curls are a graceful an’ welcome return.” He honestly puts. Lorna’s smile widens, teeth even budging from behind her lips. “Thank you, Remy.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just as Remy thinks he’s off the hook and can walk out without a question as to why he’s put such effort into his attire, Lorna pulls out all the delayed stops of her train of questioning. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where are you going?” She quirks an eyebrow up at him, arms folding against her chest. Remy intakes a deep breath, spinning around on the balls of his feet to face her. “A bar. Remy can get very lonely, yo’ get what I mean..” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The female mutant screws her face up. “Yeah, sure, ‘wateva’, just don’t bring back one of your work colleagues wife please.” Lorna orders, mimicking her friend's accent halfway through in a 50/50w light hearted, dead ‘graveyard’ serious manner. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Remy nods in approval to the terms, though biting back a response along the lines of ‘s’ brothers aren’t off limits then, cher?’ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knew he’d just be causing twice the hassle that one single line should be worth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alrigh’, can I go now?” He asks raising an eyebrow. Lorna waves her hand dismissively, slipping back into a sprawled position across the couch. Not earning any response back, Remy takes it as his cue to bounce off– And that he did. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as he found one of Harry’s drivers waiting outside, he hailed them over. Swiftly getting into the black, tinted windowed car, he tells him to drive to Central Park.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Remy only gets a nod of understanding before the speed builds up and they’re on their way to his midnight destination. </span>
</p><p><br/>
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</p>
<hr/><p>Pietro had been waiting on the outskirts of Central Park for fifteen minutes. </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If it had been any other person on this g-dforsaken planet they’d have been freezing to the bone during this particular weather of November. Except, Pietro had strengths on his side; He had been brought up in the heavy winters of Wundagore &amp; was a mutant with the curse of speed; his metabolism could produce heat hotter than that of a flick of a match.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The more abnormal point to this argument is that the speedster couldn’t even bring himself to be angry at Remy for making him wait this long. Instead, feelings of dread ran up the tissues of his body in drips of bile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He really couldn’t come back from this now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The wind whistled tunes of agreement to his inner turmoil, the snow lightly falling on the green barbered ground. Echoes of joyous voices chorused throughout the New York air; partygoers and drunks rejoicing in temporary harmony. Letting his left foot tap in hurried vibrations against the grass, his eyes dance across the scenery around him in search of Remy all the while being egged on by the anxieties that sang in time with each flicker of the eye. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Allowing himself to intake a breath, he lets it be deep as he holds it in. Pietro would say he had a vividly vibrant imagination; well technically if you counted continuously crashing your own head against concrete pavements and shattered glass that splintered into your own heart, clogging up its vessels—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>then yeah: it was pretty vivid. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Contrasting previous thoughts, footsteps lighter than the contact of glass to concrete edge closer into earshot and Pietro can’t help but finally let out the breath he was holding.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Remy wasn’t necessarily dressed up as much as Pietro was, and really he should be worried that he’s over dressed and nitpicking at his own outfit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>(To be fair Pietro was wearing a hoodie with jeans- probably even less classy than what Remy was wearing. Though Pietro had his hood up to hide his identity- hair is a big giveaway- Remy wore a beanie which honestly didn’t do much for the whole hidden identity thing.) </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>However Pietro revels in the prominent fact that Remy LeBeau showed up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“New York traffic is terrible. Not merely as crap as Los Angeles as dat is de reason why Remy prefers New Orleans t’ any city.” Remy says, using his light hearted opinion as a means to greet the other man. Pietro rolls his eyes half heartedly, letting out a soft chuckle, “I can see other reasons why you’d prefer Louisiana to Los Angeles..” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Remy raises an eyebrow, looking down at the slightly smaller man. “An’ what is dat?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well if Los Angeles is the city of angels, it’d be fitting for a devilish man with one pair of mischievous red-horned eyes like yourself to reside in the darker southern city alike to the pit of hell.” Pietro shrugs, though a smile grows on the pair's faces as both of the men’s eyes meet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ouchh, well den’ Remy supposes yo’ love Los Angeles, hm? After all if we are conspirin’ wit’ de’ same line of logic, den’ a silver haired heavenly Angel like yo’self would wanna be lavishin’ in de’ brightest ‘city of angels’.” Remy bats back as smoothly, a smile crafted with charm pulling on his lips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pietro bows his head with a shake, opting to hide his reddening cheeks than being eager to disagree. “So, uhm..where are we going?” He makes out after a brief silence between the two. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Looking down at the other, Remy feels himself grow slightly anxious at the plans he had for their first date; if all went to plan, Pietro would know that he could 100% trust Remy &amp; know that he listened or if it doesn’t then Pietro will just think he’s a soppy &amp; sentimental asshole saying ‘I’m not 13 years old anymore gambit’. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Remy really hoped for the first. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chewing the inside of his lip, he motions with his right hand to in front of them where the rest of the park laid open to nightclub frequenters. “It’s jus’ in de’ heart of Central Park.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pietro frowns, though a small smile is still perked on his lips. “Very ambitious, LeBeau. Sure you won’t kill me?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The thief quirks an eyebrow up, the familiarity of their ‘banter’ soothing his anxieties. “Ah, ah,” he waggles his index finger, “Yo’ can’t ‘ave it spoiled yet, Mon Lapin.” In response, Pietro rolls his eyes with a quiet sigh. “Very well, lead the way.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a wide grin, Remy digs through his coat pocket for the specific item he needed. Once pulling it out, he holds it out in front of Pietro. “I’m goin’ t’ need t’ put dis around yo’ eyes.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peering at the piece of fabric, Pietro chokes out a laugh, “Moving a bit fast, LeBeau?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“An when yo’ are anxious yo’ revert t’ last names, correct?” He swiftly responds. Smile falling, Pietro’s eyes dart down to the ground. “Do I have to be?” He asks simply after a few moments of silence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Remy hums in answer, tilting his head to the side. “Yea’, unless yo’ don’t like de dark?” Remy throws out absentmindedly. Though watching the reaction on the speedsters face- how it dropped to that of a weakened barrier that showed flickers of fear- Remy soon came back to realisation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll talk t’ yo’ an’ hold yo’ hand?” He offers, voice growing softer. Reluctantly, Pietro nods. Slowly, Remy ties the sheet of fabric across the speedsters eyes all the while making sure to voice light hearted comments as a means to reassure the younger man. When the fabric is loosely knotted behind his head, Remy reaches for the other hand. They clasp together as though magnets of nature &amp; fate had grown within their palms- making it so they would never be able to let go. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hands entwined together, the two make their way along the designated paths of Central Park. Remy makes sure to egg on conversations about whatever he can think of that would anchor Pietro back to the here &amp; now and not the devastating night of M day. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually Remy sees vibrant lights blaring at him in technicolours indicating that the pair had arrived. Spinning around to face his date in front of him, a nervous grimace grows. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Noting the sudden music and voices, Pietro attempts to piece together the familiarity of it all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Now before Remy takes de blindfold off, I jus’ want t’ say dat I know dat it’s silly an’ highly daft but yo’ spoke ‘bout it so fondly s’ technically it’s on yo’.” Remy wholeheartedly jokes. Pietro screws his face up in impatience, anticipation shooting through his limbs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For g-ds sake, just take the bloody thing off,” Pietro complains, frustration soaking through his tone. Nodding to himself, the Cajun takes a deep breath in as he removes the fabric and leaving the speedsters eyelids bare. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He watches in nervous glee as he witnesses the runners face- eyes fluttering open, cheeks blooming redder, eyes growing brighter &amp; lips curving into a smile- Remy feels himself also matching the joy that spreads across the other man’s features. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pietro, in turn, feels his stomach summersort in agonising bliss. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Looking on from where him and his teammate stood, Pietro witnesses the great canopy that hung high into the New York night; acrobats &amp; tightropers welcoming the crowds into the tent as clowns poke around gaps terrifying parents &amp; bringing joy to would-be psychopaths (and consequently Pietro.). </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As his mouth tried to make out the words that were zooming across his mind, Remy looks on at the man- he himself barely able to contain his excitement. “One night yo’ talked ‘bout how yo’ loved de circus an’ de acrobats. S’ when I realised we ain’t gone on a date yet, I thought dis would be perfect.” He explains swiftly, his feet feeling like needles that were injecting dopamine into him as he waits in the same spot for a response. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Throat growing dry, Pietro cannot find words however to respond. He’d never attended a circus with any of his friends or family as much as he begged for them to. So to be here with Remy, someone that in all honesty barely knew the half of Pietro’s story, made the effort to listen and act...his heart spun with panicked butterflies. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So instead, using his hands to respond, the speedster grabs thenCajuns face and smashes their lips together as closely as mutantly possible. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Remy himself was surprised at the intimate act, but in reply he kisses back as passionately, letting his eyes clamp shut as he revels in the soft skin that laid warmly against his own whilst plush lips moved beside his. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gradually pulling away (not for air- mainly because the two silently deemed that enough public intimacy for those around them.), the twos eyes glue to one another as both pull into bright mirrored smiles, though not disfigured or faux like the images from a circus mirror maze. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally with a light breath, Pietro speaks. “Thank you, Le- Remy.” He corrects himself last second, confidence emerging swiftly as his eyes gain energy from the others. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Remys smile soon twists into a smirk, eyes flickering from down to Pietro to the circus tent then back to Pietro. Mockingly coughing, he bows down like an 1700’s escort would with royalty- in turn making the speedster laugh softly. Eyebrows raised, Remy tilts his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So...want t’ find our seats?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>In all honesty Remy had never been much of a fan of the circus. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ever since he was a child Jean-Luc would attempt to take him to some kind of circus but to no avail: Remy saw no entertainment value,  ‘I’d rather see you and your men &amp; women work papa!’ He’d say to his father instead. As much as lions and acrobats excited him, the cruel reality of life had dampened such fantasies of those that flew freely and humans that sustained such fierce fire, tough tumbles &amp; sharp swords. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To Remy, living till 20 had been the biggest fantasy in his eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But as he watched the flame lit eyes of his lover widen in childlike anticipation, it opened up a part of something in him- quite possibly the factory settings of the child he should of been allowed to be- where he could see the simplistic joys of the circus and all that happened within the single high strung tent. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pietro’s smiled the same way that children smiled at the school when their friends remembered their birthday when their own parents did not– innocence shone from his pearly teeth, cheeks red with excitement as he bounces on the balls of his feet; not because of annoyance but because he was just so enticed into the performances in the show. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seeing Pietro in this setting had not however helped with his growing feelings for him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now Remy just wanted everybody to know they were one unit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Throughout the show, Pietro would nudge him softly with his fairly boney elbows and commentate on what was going on for the inexperienced x-man. His voice would flow with giddy knowledge as his hands pointed and gestured to all that was commencing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Remy had always known Pietro was a passionate man; but he’d seen it in darker &amp; extreme ways:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Protect List</b>
</p><p> </p>
<ol>
<li><span>His Twin Sister &amp; Lorna </span></li>
<li><span>Luna </span></li>
<li><span>Bova</span></li>
<li><span>Jarvis </span></li>
<li><span>Crystal</span></li>
</ol><p> </p><p>
  <b>Hate List</b>
</p>
<ol>
<li><span>Erik </span></li>
</ol><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seeing the man so freely passionate about something so simply simplistic as the art of acrobatics was… human. Pietro had no traces of the cold warrior quicksilver in him tonight; Remy saw the cracks of a much younger, more free &amp; happier Pietro instead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The show ends extravagantly and Pietro cannot hide his joy of it. By the end even Remy was hyped for the closing act. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So as they left the tent with bids of farewell from performers, Remy couldn’t help but notice the giddy spring in Pietro’s step or that Remy had a slight one too. Perhaps his father had had a point. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was only when they reached the edge of New York’s infamous park when the speedster finally stopped. His energy vitals seem to normalise, his eyes flicker over to Remy’s own. Ruby to diamond, their eyes glisten against the dark canvas night sky.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the runner looks up at Remy, he wishes to know just what the silver haired man thought of him to look at him with such depth of emotions (how Remy deserved such a look). </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eyes focused and wide, Pietro humbly smiles. “Thank you for tonight I...I really did enjoy it. Truly.” He says with emphasis, long fingers fidgeting against one another. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Remy smiles down widely. “No problem at all, Cher.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So...how do we end the night?” Pietro asks, peering up quizzically. A sly smile grows on Remy’s face. Placing a warm hand against a rose tinted cheek- fabric from the man’s hoody tickling against Remy’s knuckles- he pulls the runner into a deep kiss.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pietro’s hands ghost across his own tanned skin, laying dormant on the crook of the thief’s neck. Pale fingers curling around the edge, he clings on as emotions wave off his lips and vibrate upon the others. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pulling away, though their lips still brushed against each other, Pietro stared into mischievous red eyes. To Pietro, they should have warned him away with such similarity to danger signs, yet Pietro felt even more enticed when it came to such hypnotic and hungry pupils. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With his own eyes in shaded want- but dosed in concern- he frowns against the others plush lips. “What if somebody sees?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Remy shakes his head in response, rubbing his thumb softly against delicate skin to soothe his beloved. “Nobody can see yo’ hair, nobody know dat we are who we are.” The Cajun coos, eyes designated only on the man in front of him. Pietro nods in reluctance, leaning into the other man’s touch. His lips curl into a smile, “parikerav, megayear cherhaj.”* He speaks in his native tongue. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A dark brunette eyebrow raised, champagne red eyes look down, “An, what does ‘dat mean?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cheeks growing with increasing blush, Pietro shrugs instead. “Just a phrase my father Django used to say in a old story. ‘Thank you’.” Pietro responds dubiously; part of himself hadn’t even realised what he’d said until it had come out of his mouth. Now that he did know, however, fear rose back up in his veins in an attempt to overtake him once more and make him runaway like he always did. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Brushing the dread aside, Pietro moves in towards Remy and their lips connect once more. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he pressed against the humid figure, hands caressing against feather eyelashes on deceiving white flesh, Remy decided that if he were to die like this right then &amp; now, he wouldn’t half mind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Shakespeare had it all wrong,</em>
  </b>
  <span> Remy thought.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>It wasn’t the poison that sealed Romeo’s fate, it was Juliet’s farewell kiss. </em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>After two drinks at a local bar down Hell’s Kitchen, </span>
</p><p>
  <span>ruffling up his hair &amp; pretending like his heart wasn’t fluttering wildly in his chest because of Pietro Maximoff; Remy LeBeau returned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Cajun came back to serval industries around 2am, hands buzzing drunkenly from dizzy bliss rather than the alcoholic drinks he’d barely taken in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lorna was still awake, however, her hands brushed through static green curls as her eyes fell across pages of notes on things she needed to learn for their next press conference. As soon as Remy let the front door close with a faint click, Lorna jolted her head to face the x-man with a tired look wavering around her seaweed eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have fun?” She asks hoarsely, letting pages of paper graze against her fingertips and slip to the pile infront of her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Remy nods, tussling his hair out from his eyes, “Yo’ could say s’.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“At least one of us has had fun.” Polaris laughs lightly, humour absent in her tone. Remy raises an eyebrow, “Go t’ bed, Lor.” His voice goes harder though care is strongly laced in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lorna shakes her head, “No, no- I need to finish this paperwork. Besides, since when did you do paperwork?” The female raises an eyebrow at the male, opting to lean back in her seat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shrugging, Remy merely lets a smile fall on his lips, “Who knows, mayb’ Remy jus’ got lucky.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Staring at the man in front of her, a smile soon begins to bloom on Lorna’s face  like a flower in the spring. “You’re dating somebody— are you and Anna-Marie back together!” She declares, knowing her close friends behaviour oh too well. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was partially right, Remy thought…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not Rogue...it’s somethin’ new.” Remy ambiguously says, his lips curling into a smile though at the thought of the silver haired speedster, how he smiled through his deep frozen ocean eyes and the way he looked at Remy when he realised what he’d done-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A snap echoes through the air, Remy swiftly snaps his head to where Lorna had clicked her fingers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her eyebrows are arched higher than that of the Arc De Triumphe. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You went all bashful in the face- go to bed and go back to normal...OH and while you’re at it could you knock Pietro against a wall? He’s acting just as weird as you.” Lorna complains halfheartedly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Reluctantly, Remy complies with Lorna’s orders and makes his way to his bedroom; his head light with lust for what felt like the first time in a long while. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>All the while, Lorna Dane stares at the path Remy took back to his room, her eyes falling into thoughtful slits. Peering back down at her paperwork, she crosses her arms. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Both her brother and Remy are acting weird and it’s making her feel uncomfortable; they’re both her closest friends and yet she’s so...distant from them lately. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Something was going on; and Lorna had dread fill her stomach. Pietro &amp; Remy had been bickering more lately and if the two were fighting outside of this building and hiding it from Lorna…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lorna decided firmly as she sat up in her spot- not knowing of how wrong she’d found it; </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was going to make them like each other. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy New Year! .... I guess? We’re officially back in lockdown so whilst I process the new doses of trauma that have entered my blood stream I want to apologise for my erratic uploads. I’m sorry if this is boring or just so mf dumb but besides this and nearly finishing the next chapter as well as the chapters I have for my other fic...I got nothing. Lorna is suspicious though she’s getting more cold than hot, next chapter things may just come to big blows oops. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and thank you all sm for the extremely kind comments, reads &amp; kudos!!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. World War Three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>They really need to work on their communication skills.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You two are going out with me tonight.” </p><p> </p><p>Snapping his head around from where he was sitting at the breakfast table, Pietro turns to face his sister. “<strong><em>What?</em></strong>” </p><p> </p><p>“You heard me. <em>You</em>. <em>Remy</em>. <strong><em>Me</em></strong>. <strong><em>Going out</em></strong>.” Lorna responds simply staring at him with a new gleam of determination in her eyes. Pietro frowns as his face twists into familiar confusion.</p><p> </p><p>It was a Saturday morning; Luna was on holiday break from school, Georgia was still processing her loss and grief whilst the team were recovering from quite the busy mission the night before. Apparently, in the year end of 2014 the world still couldn’t grasp the concept of evolution and that mutants, as unnatural they may seem, are the product of natural development of the basic human form that most of these incels will evolve to with their grandchildren in years to come. In the end, however, the psycho terrorist group were put behind bars and the team even got an earlier bedtime than usual. Most of them at least as Pietro’s mind fazes back into the concept of reality…</p><p> </p><p>Remy’s voice triggers the outage of Pietro’s daydreaming and all the while is slouched down in his own seat and unfazed by the order from his good friend. Playing with his piece of toast, (<em>which was highly unethical for Pietro’s standards as it was coated with butter and <strong>g-d</strong> his hands would be greasy–</em>) he shrugs, “Where are we goin’ then?” He asks. </p><p> </p><p>Twisting her spoon around her hands with her illuminating green mutant powers, Lorna looks at the two men as she seemingly conjures their mischievous fate for the night ahead. “<em>Bowling</em>. Nice place downtown, low-key and very friendly. I thought the three of us needed some good ol’ bonding time…” she drawls off, watching her brother's face twist in confusion and Remy’s in amusement. “Wait- <em>why</em> aren’t the others coming?” Pietro raises an eyebrow. </p><p> </p><p>Lorna suddenly sits up in her seat. “<em> Uh </em> .. because .. <b> <em>well</em> </b> Doug wanted to help Danger and Warlock get to know each other...robot to robot... <b> <em>SO</em> </b> I thought, why not the same for you two? you know, <strong>asshole to asshole.</strong>” She explains as smoothly as she can off the top of her head. </p><p> </p><p>Pietro nods slowly, his lie detector beeping in rays of black and white. “<strong>Right</strong>. <em>Well</em>. I can’t anyway- I have to look after Luna and Georgia you see as the others seem to be already occupied with the whole robot to robot thing but it’s a lovely offer—”</p><p> </p><p>“—An’ I got some guild things t’ sort out, my papa ain’t exactly left it in de good shape.” Remy cooly answers compared to the stiff shouldered man. Honestly, Remy had to teach him to lie better… <strong><em>perhaps Remy would take the chance later on?...</em></strong></p><p> </p><p>“<strong>I don’t care!</strong>” Lorna snaps, interrupting either of the males' thought processes. “As your leader of this team I’m demanding you two to sort your crap out and this is mandatory— Remy you’re not sorting any guild things mainly because it’s the <b> <em>THIEVES</em> </b> guild and last I heard it’s <b> <em>ILLEGAL—</em> </b> Pietro, take Luna and Georgia with us and that is that and this is an order.” She declares fiercely. </p><p> </p><p>Remy &amp; Pietro stare at her as though she’s flaming Erik Lehnsherr. Internally, she groans at the thought. Always in daddy’s shadow...x-factor was her chance to prove she wasn’t Alex’s little girl friend or her fathers gender-bent copy. The way Lorna saw it, she didn’t want anymore males ruining her chances of proving herself to everybody else that ever doubted her capability as a singular heroine. She wouldn’t let it happen again or she’ll be damned—</p><p> </p><p>“We’ll do it..” The two men say in complete compliance. </p><p> </p><p>Lips pulling into a smile, she falls back into her seat. “<strong>Damn</strong> right.” </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>“She thinks we hate each other, Remy, I don’t want to upset her.” Pietro guiltily admits as he throws on his yellow serval hoodie. </p><p> </p><p>A few hours had passed since the urupt proposition from Lorna had taken place. Whilst Georgia and Luna had jumped ecstatically at the idea of going bowling as well as being able to play on arcade machines, Pietro and Remy…were impartial.</p><p> </p><p>Shaking his head, the Cajun buttons up the last remaining buttons on the bottom of his shirt, letting the fabric rest over his grey washed jeans. “‘Ro, yo’ ain’t upsettin’ her, she thinks de bickerin’ we have been partakin’ in is a rivalry, s’ we’ll jus’ pretend we bonded tonight.” He schemefully lays out the plan to his boyfriend, a self satisfied smile sinking upon his lips. </p><p> </p><p>Pietro, however, rolls his eyes. “And then what? When she does find out she’ll ask questions and then she’ll wonder why I never said anything to her and then she’ll be even more upset because she thought we hated each other and she was getting stressed over the team breaking up whilst we lapped foolishly in her despair–“</p><p> </p><p>“ma lumière, take a deep breath,” Remy soothingly cuts in, swiftly finding himself making his way to behind the other man’s pale frame and burying his head into the crook of the speedsters racing neck. Pressing a kiss to where the man’s pulse is skipping against his foul mouthed lips, Remy further mutters in reassurance. “She will not hate yo’; Lorna Sally Dane loves yo’ t’ bits an’ in under an hour or so she’ll be all over it.” Pietro lets his eyes fall shut, instead allowing his synapses to take over as they reflex closer to Remy’s hold in retaliation to the touch he is receiving. </p><p> </p><p>“I suppose…”</p><p> </p><p>“An’ beside dis’, since when did yo’ turn keen on her knowin’?” Remy investigates, his grin growing at the racing thought of Pietro meeting him half way; and from the reddening blossoming on the runners face, Remy is half tempted to state that his hopeful suspicion is in fact correct. “After this last month I think...I would like her to know.”</p><p> </p><p>Remy does not bring up Wanda, the Cajun knew that by doing so he’d only send the speedster into a further tornado of panic that he may not gain control of this time in a hurricane of speed that just won’t shut down. Pressing another kiss behind the ex-avengers right ear, Gambit nods in agreement. “Whenever yo’ want t’ do it, I’ll be okay with it, Cherie.” He slowly reassures. </p><p> </p><p>Letting out a deep breath that had been nesting in his throat, Pietro turns to look at the other man. “Okay. How do I look?”</p><p> </p><p>Remy tilts his head, a gleaming glint surfacing on his red orbed eyes. “Well, perhaps yo’ an’ Remy can jus’ stay here an—” A gust of wind interrupts his proposition making the thief groan to himself. </p><p> </p><p>Looking over to where his door was slammed back open, he shakes his head. He mutters, though a smile stems across his lips. “Yo’ will make up for dat’ later.” </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>An hour agonisingly passes by before the three adults and two preteens end up at the bowling alley that resided within the outskirts of New York City. As soon as the five mutants entered the establishment they were greeted with overwhelming amounts of static neon lights whilst the music blaring from rustically modern wall speakers belted rhythmically inside the large hall.</p><p> </p><p>As though there wasn’t enough competition dripping within the room, the screeching voices of children seemed to be competing against the fast paced Now 87 playlist that was on repeat and committing crimes against the adults ears. </p><p> </p><p>Letting her borrowed bowling shoes kick against the electronic keyboard’s base, Luna sits thoughtfully with Georgia over her right shoulder as the two decisively think about which names each of them will receive on their turn as well as who will actually go first. All the while, Pietro painfully sits still upon the bench by their bowling aile, all against the dedication towards simplistic input of information such as names but more so happy to leave the girls be with something they’re both finding enjoyment in. Remy stood behind the two girls whispering suggestions about each other’s player names earning a giggle or hushed scold from either, all for making their names the most hysterically horrific of the whole bowling alleys history. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> <strong>Apparently Wade Wilson had been here before so the task was vastly difficult to overcome…</strong> </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Leaning against the rack that held a variety of weights, sizes and colours of varying bowling balls, Lorna watches analytically, her focus shifting from one man child to the other. They seem to be behaving civilly, something Lorna hadn’t thought would occur so soon. By now, she’d have thought either of the two (who was she kidding? obviously Remy.) would have instigated some kind of quarrel that left Lorna in the position of saying some kind of warning such as;</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><ol>
<li>There are kids here! Can’t you two just behave?</li>
<li>Last I checked this wasn’t a pantomime so stop acting like fools!</li>
<li>Suddenly I wish I was the royal family therefore be excused to kill my own and perform a Queen on Diana.</li>
<li>Just fucking shut up! </li>
</ol><p> </p><p>However, it appeared that the two were very much getting along and staying out of one another’s business therefore sparing (and partially disheartening) Lorna. Sucked out of her whirlwind of articulated thoughts, Lorna is launched back into the present as the familiar tone of protest escapes from her brother's mouth. </p><p> </p><p>“I am not a ‘therapists damp dream’—“ </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, mon amie yo’ would be very surprised at de amount of therapists knockin’ on servals door askin’ t’ do a psych test on yo’...” </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“What’s a ‘damp dream’?” Georgia inquires, breaking up the lightly tense conversation. Snapping up to look at the two men, Lorna sends them wary daggers that are edging to be sharpened then thrown. “Yeah, Remy Etienne LeBeau, just what is a ‘damp dream’?” Lorna rebuttals, raising such innocent eyebrows up. </p><p> </p><p>Remy, in turn, shifts his eyes uncomfortably between the two girls waiting impatiently for an answer and the two adults beside him awaiting how he makes his way out of this mess; <em>except he’s Remy LeBeau.</em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> <strong>He can get out of anything. </strong> </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“A damp dream is basically when yo’ are a male an’ yo’ love somethin’ so much dat yo’ heart feels as though it is filled wit’ water durin’ a dream.” Remy explains, lying through his perfectly pearly teeth. </p><p> </p><p>The two siblings, Lorna and Pietro, incline their heads to the two other girls' responses. Right now Pietro is so thankfully glad that his daughter has her specialised shades on at this moment. </p><p> </p><p>Georgia responds first. “Okay!” </p><p> </p><p>Letting out a silent sigh, Remy grins. </p><p> </p><p>Polaris, on the other hand, merely shakes her head as she gestures to the ready and waiting bowling isle that they now occupy for the next hour. </p><p> </p><p>“So, gentlemen and young ladies, who’s going first?” </p><p> </p><hr/><p>“Yo’ should of never brought a speedster t’ a bowlin’ alley,” Remy complains in a twinkling teasing manner. Pointedly pointing at the man being discussed, his eyes grow narrower in mocking accusative. “If yo’ don’t bowl fairly Remy will have t’ oh so charmingly blow a ball right at yo’ face.” He lightly threatens, watching as the runners face turns hot with what Remy can’t seem to decide as either anger or fluster. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh really? I don’t see that being quite possible; not if I ram you into the machine first, afterall.” Pietro responds in a harsh haste. The Cajun quirks a misbehaving eyebrow up, mischievous spreading to his lips, contagiously to his brain and consequently down to his vocal chords. </p><p> </p><p>“<em>Oh</em> yes <em><strong>please</strong></em>–” </p><p> </p><p>“Could we not have a little digit sword fight over who’s the most manly and dominant between the two of you? It’s aggravatingly <strong>annoying</strong>.” Lorna interrupts with a scowl, eyeing the two with distaste and irritation. </p><p> </p><p>An hour later and the five had indeed left their isle at the bowling alley however only to grab another for three due to Luna and Georgia wishing to spend another hour or so on the arcade machines in the hopes to specifically win a large stuffed toy with their winning tickets. This of course left Lorna, Pietro and Remy playing as (childish) adults alone and isolated from the underage children that may have been mentally traumatised by the language and innuendos exhibited by the thief that could not be excused. </p><p> </p><p>Matching the technique of his bowl, Pietro rolls his eyes at his undisclosed boyfriend and with the flick of his wrist sent the bowling ball skidding smoothly across the isle and straight down the middle of the pins and easily knocking the ten over in a clash of painted and chipped wood.</p><p> </p><p>On the balls of his feet, Pietro swiftly turns around with a graceful lift of his lips, sending an all but sweet smile towards the Cajun. Shaking his head, Remy mutters something under his breath presumably in his native language.</p><p> </p><p>Lifting her head up towards the score board, Lorna shakes her head with a triumphant grin on her face as sounds from their designated speakers declared the game as finished. “Boys, boys, boys, there is no use squabbling with each other when neither of you actually won.” The female mutant announces, small pride swelling in her chest. A small victory, a large glory. <strong><em>If only Alex could see now just how more powerful she is on the battlefield and stronger than he….</em></strong></p><p> </p><p>“I’m jus’ sayin’ lor, yo’ brother must of cheated cus’ I am a <em>brilliant</em> bowler—”</p><p> </p><p>“Or perhaps you can let your pride die alongside every Star Trek franchise and say good game?” Pietro scornfully interjects earning a sinful look from his partner. </p><p> </p><p>Crossing his arms, Remy inclines his head up. “Very well...good game.” </p><p> </p><p>Nodding along, Pietro mimics his words. “Good game to you too.” </p><p> </p><p>With an approving smile growing on her face, Lorna grabs them both by the shoulder, sandwiching her in between the two. “<em><strong>See?</strong> </em>Isn’t it great when we’re getting along and all on the same page?” </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think we’re quite all on de same page, Remy could have skipped a few…” </p><p> </p><p>Lifting an eyebrow at Remy, the green haired woman shakes her head. “You’re so difficult and confusing– now shut up I want to help my niece and Georgia.” Wedging out of the two taller males walls, Lorna makes her way ahead of her x-factor teammates. As soon as shes gained a considerable distance ahead of them both, Pietro speaks first. </p><p> </p><p>“<strong><em>Really?</em> </strong>You couldn’t of just let that comment disperse in that head of yours?” </p><p> </p><p>“What? Yo’ know Remy was jus’ itchin’ t’ say it. After all, it was pretty smart hm Cherie?” Remy responds smugly, instantaneously earning a light whack to the shoulder from his boyfriend. Pietro rolls his eyes, continuing their way towards the arcade. “You could of just recounted your smart remarks to me later on tonight?” </p><p> </p><p>Groaning like an impatient child, Remy shakes his head. “But dat’ would not garner a reaction from Lorna..” </p><p> </p><p>“You know you’re insufferable, correct?” Pietro questions, stopping in his path and tilting his head ever so slightly up to meet the other man’s gaze. Remy candidly flashes a bright smile down at him. “An’ dat is why yo’ like me best, no? Someone dat’ keeps up with yo?” As Remy continued to look down dotefully at him, Pietro felt the urge to kiss the man right then and there in response to his truthful observation. Luckily, unconscious interruptions always occur in tricky and tempting situations. </p><p> </p><p>“Dad! Auntie Lorna has just rigged the machine we’ve got the bears we need to leave now!” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Personal life, things have crumbled ‘slightly’ however I’m very happy that I’ve got this chapter and the second part to this one done just now. Hopefully I’ll have more time now to focus on this fic. I hope you enjoy this chapter and enjoyed the softness because the next one will be a bit more on the heavier side :0</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. TEAM</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Living in ruins of a palace within my dreams<br/>And you know we’re on each others team.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Running for two miles from a bowling alley, an 20 item McDonald’s order and three extra stuffed animals later, the family unit returned back to serval at just gone 9 in the evening. 30 minutes later Pietro had successfully tucked the girls in and got them settled for their usual bedtime (as much as Luna complains about being treated like a baby) therefore leaving the three older adults with the luxurious and rare prize of free reign. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a socially exhausting day, Pietro hoped he’d be able to run into his room, change into his usual sleep wear and doze right off to sleep. On the other hand, Lorna wished to continue their social event by consuming some alcohol and watching some romcoms that she half heartedly loves. Remy, whilst wishing to also crawl under the covers with Pietro for extra curricular activities (which mainly includes cuddling, he’s a good catholic boy shame on the foul thinking ideas those witnessing his thought process may possessed.), Remy was also excruciatingly scared of the big Lorna Dane. Not because she’s Magneto’s kid or because she’s Pietro’s sister or because she’s his team leader but because she is simply <strong><em>Lorna Dane</em></strong>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span><strong><em>So</em></strong>, he accidentally sided with Lorna to the disapproval of his boyfriend. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This summary perfectly seems to describe how they ended up in their current situation. Lorna was wrapped snugly in a woven blanket which she was 99% sure was a gift from her father for Hanukkah a few years back. Lying in her position with her head reclining back against her brother's shoulders, she watches tiredly with drooping eyes as Bridget Jones runs in lingerie after what’s his face– technically Lorna thought in her drunken state that it didn’t matter if she couldn’t remember the name of the good posh man from the film as things only get resolved in the third for her to care for that character. Logically, Lorna patted herself on the back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Meanwhile, Pietro watched ever so slightly tipsily with his eyes narrowed decisively as he attempted to dissect what he’s actually watching in front of their television at 11 something pm. <em>She’s confused over who she likes over two different guys yet one of them is a complete asshole and the other is kind yet guarded? </em>Now Pietro is left considerably confused as to why Crystal chose him over Johnny if their characteristics were compared to these characters. Sure, Pietro wasn’t a sleaze like the dickhead British man but he certainly compared similarly in comparison to Johnny ‘Angelic, all is good’ Storm. Perhaps if Pietro had watched more rom coms, he’d have been a better husband. <em>He should have listened to Wanda….</em></span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, Remy watches sprawled across the sofa in his spot on the couch in high engagement and amusement. Having thrown his legs automatically over the speedsters own long limbs, he’d been watching the 00’s chick flick with eager attention and interest. With all the drama and happy endings occurring in this film it made the Cajun wonder if he should start writing in a diary about his feelings– <em>should Pietro start writing in a diary about his feelings? Would that be therapeutic? Or would he threaten to break up with Remy? <strong>Either way, ultimately Remy mainly wanted to know how this main character is so terrible at cooking?! </strong></em></span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the end credits began to roll, Lorna rolls her shoulders as a means to wake her entire skeletal structure and preferably also her soul up. Twisting her head to face the two men, she shows off a drowsy smile. “Well, i believe the last time I properly did this was with Bobby and Jean so I am very...thankful? Is that the word?...for this experience. Are you two friends now? No more fighting? Am I free from worries?” Pietro nods slowly, a soft smile matching his sisters own, “Yes, Lorna, we are in deed okay with each other now.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Remy nods along with Pietro’s string of words, a grin surfacing on his own lips, “Of course, Cherie, yo’ are most certainly not gettin’ no more fightin’ from us two– me an’ Pietro are as thick as thieves—“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“— I am <em><strong>not</strong></em> a thief—“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“—<em>Just take de damn compliment</em>,” Remy scolds with a light and brisk tone to his rough Cajun voice, shooting a teasing look in the direction of the particular boyfriend he had addressed. Pietro slumps further into his seat and crosses his arms with a silent huff of surrender, earning an eye roll from his half sister. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lorna shakes her head at the two men though a velvety laugh escapes from her red blissed lips. “Okay, okay, it needs more work. I expected that, but, I’m deeming this a success.” She lets her smile widen as she slowly lifts herself off of the couch as a minor tired wave washes over her. Peering back down between her brother and friend, she nods directly at them. “Well I am going to bed which means I do not wish to be disturbed until at least 3 in the afternoon tomorrow therefore I bid you goodnight and a more peaceful sleep tonight.” Lorna says quietly. Sloping into the corridor leading to serval’s bedrooms, she leaves the room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A silent and tense minute passes in the dimly lit living room. Quietly, music statically hums from the television as it relays on a rhythmical 2000’s loop with the usual options to ‘PLAY’ or to ‘SELECT SCENE’. As the clock which was bolted tightly to the apartment's wall ticked and its hand made its way back to where it had begun just a minute previously, Remy turned to look Pietro’s way. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well hello, <strong><em>best friend</em></strong>,” Remy teases softly, tilting his head to rest against the speedsters' own. Looking at ruby red eyes that bled with want and peered up oh so innocently at himself, Pietro fights off an amused smile and instead chooses to roll his eyes mockingly. “You wish,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Best boyfriend?” The Cajun furtherly inquires, his brunette strands of hair falling lazily across Pietro’s cheek and shoulder. The other man lets his lips pull into a questioning smirk, his eyes scaling over the thief’s own face for fearful signs of backtracking. “I’m not your only boyfriend?” He asks. Spot on, remy’s eyes widen ever so slightly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Smoothly, he recovers. “Well, Remy supposes dat’ due t’ yo’ beautiful looks an’ smarts dat’ he ain’t had a boyfriend jus’ as good as yo’.” He admits breezily. Pietro faintly laughs though his ears considerably redden with sensitive embarrassment. “<strong><em>Ah</em></strong>. Lucky for you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Remy hums, the wounds glowering in his eyes becoming raw with need. Noticing this progressive sign, Pietro attempts to make the good decision of stopping before something happens which could lead to something worse. Jolting suddenly, Pietro makes his way along with his speed to run to his room however comes to an unpredicted halt. Instead of being huddled against his bedroom covers in his own room, the runner was now huddled on the carpet with a flirty Cajun on top of him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And everyone thinks I’m the stubborn one…” Pietro mutters in a murmur. Remy grins down at him, the bright satisfaction empathising his triumph. “Well, cherie, I am a thief, we thief’s keep what is stolen close an’ what’s ours closer.” He whispers hotly, his tone growing lower as the sentence went on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The runner sighs weakly under the other, ultimately announcing his loss. “You’re really something else, Chakano.” Pietro muses thoughtfully, though thought does not seem to fully process in him as the last part of his sentence slips out from his conscious thoughts and into the open. Raising an eyebrow, Remy reserves him a lopsided grin. “<strong><em>Chakano</em></strong>? What does that mean?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Staring up at the Cajun, he gingerly replies. “Chakano means star in the Romany language.” Eyebrows creasing, he ducks his head down lower to face the other man more intimately. “Remy knows he’s a star but didn’t see dat comin’ from yo’... why?” His own accented voice dissolves into a more tender tone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Averting his eyes back to gambit’s own, Pietro answers. “To run I must have a guide- before I even knew what running truly was for me my parents instilled this kind of mindset into Wanda and I. They hoped we’d never become lost. Especially when I became more...<em>upset</em>..I tried running away. So, they would hope that there would be that one person that can take me back home and safe. An anchor that’s secure in holding me down when I feel like I must run away and stray...I suppose I said it because in these past few months, <strong><em>especially right now</em></strong>,I finally feel there’s somewhere– <strong><em>someone</em></strong> –I can truly call home.” Pietro finishes sheepishly, his chest growing erratic as his heart pounds against thin layers of skin and uniquely sculptured bones.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Taken aback by Pietro’s response, Remy’s smile drops. Tenderly, the Cajun lets his right hand reach out to where Pietro’s head laid against mustard carpet. Delicately letting his tanned palm cup around the silver haired males reddened and seemingly porcelain cheek, his eyes glimmer with untouched emotion. “S’... like star crossed lovers?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hearing the man’s response, Remy anxiously pushes his luck with Pietro. Leaning closer and closer against the speedster, his lips daintily meet contact with a burning hot ear. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shakespeare must of got it wrong den’; cus’ I am always goin’ t’ be right here wit’ yo’.” Remy vows, promising as though he were in a chapel of heaven that he would not be deterred away from him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Skin touching like a key to a locket, their emotions become clear, visible and readable between the two. A neutral response is then decided.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Letting a hand slide into auburn brunette curls, Pietro lets his frail and fast fingers comb through them as he uses this leverage to draw the Cajun as close as he inhumanly can till their lips collide in hungry and newly found desperation between the two. Inaudibly groaning against Pietro’s soft yet harsh lips, he swiftly adjusts himself so he can comfortably straddle the other man. Shifting under the added weight, Pietro drags the man furtherly forward to therefore end up with Remy lying fully on top of him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Smiling against carnation lips, Remy pulls himself back up for just a few seconds to pull and slide off his button up shirt. Falling back across the runners sleek limbs, he changes tactics and presses passionately warm kisses against the others throat, gliding carelessly caring across the untouched flesh. Breathing hitching, Pietro swallows down a moan as he now feels more than just Remy’s heart moving against his body. As he shifts to remove his own shirt, he whispers. “Remy—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Glass shatters sharply interrupting Pietro. Instantly shooting up in their spots, the ex-avengers eyes grow shallow as oxygen seems to escape the man’s body as his organs no longer find themselves able to breath. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the hauntingly hostile and dangerously dark room, Lorna Dane stood. Eyes blown wide in toxic mixtures of jumbled and spilt emotions, her lips stumble to speak. There laid on the ground was her dormantly empty glass that usually was fully filled with water. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Instead, the water seemed to exit emerald forest green eyes. “Im sorry, I was just getting some water...I’m...I”.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before Pietro can even respond, the mistress of magnetism is fleeing the building through the window at speeds even Pietro hadn’t witnessed of his sister before. Oh so suddenly, reality hits him like the words his mother said when she fled from him too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tears already threatening and escaping his eyes, he turns to Remy’s regretful, sickenly and strickenly worried eyes. Swallowing roughly, he lets himself cry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I- I...I can’t lose her- Remy, I can’t lose my best friend.” Collapsing into the arms of his boyfriend, Remy solemnly welcomes the man into his comforting cradle. As the silver haired mutant cries against his chest, all Remy can do is stroke softly through white strands and promise that not only Pietro hadn’t lost Lorna but that he’d certainly never lose him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Remy knew that she’d be okay. That didn’t mean he was prettified of what could happen next. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>By 2am, Remy was able to shift Pietro and himself into his own room. The night had grown darker as clouds formed within the confused and concerned skies. Rain drizzled down heavily like calm leaks of tears from the eye, slipping their way back down the cheek and drops back down off the jawline. Rumbling hungrily with hurt, the wind roared throughout the next few hours in harmony with the rest of the weather. All the while safe and sound in the indoors of their multi million dollar building, Pietro had felt as safe as if he’d actually been camping with an umbrella in the dark and gloomy weather outside. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The speedster, terrified of losing his sister, had only just fallen asleep when Remy slowly scooped his toned frame up and carried him silently back into bed. Cozily covered underneath thick sheets of bedding, Pietro slept silently as the night began commencing to an end. Remy, whilst pleading with his boyfriend to fall asleep and garner some rest, had actually taken to occupy the kitchen bar for the last half hour as agonising energy transferred through his body. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shuffling through organising the fruit bowl into a variety of towers, landscapes and patterns, Remy thought to himself whether he could gather a smile from the silver haired mutant if he were to set off an array of elegant explosions aimed within the sky. It is when he is finishing his recreation of the Eiffel Tower that he hears a door faintly shut close and another softly open. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lorna, eyes blown red with purple veins resting against swollen eye bags &amp; hair messily scrambled about similarly to a toddlers crayon creation of a princess’ hair, walks quietly towards where Remy is sitting and just as delicately as she travelled, she perches onto a barstool without a word, barely taking a breath. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tearing his eyes from her, he looks back upon his fruitful art piece. Remy then hears the woman laugh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You could bullshit your way into an art gallery with this. Say that you used organic, healthy and natural supplies as a metaphor that all things natural are the base and creation for capitalistic gains and if we haven’t got the earth, we haven’t got any of the materialistic things we all love and adore.” Lorna speaks thoughtfully, letting her left palm rub roughly against her right eye. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Remy smiles softly, nodding along. “Hmm. Perhaps Remy should go outside an’ grab some mud t’ use as concrete,” he adds to her chain of thought, earning a further laugh from his close friend. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She hums in approval. “Of course..” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Silence falls once more amongst the two and Remy finds that whilst he does not often open his mouth dangerously when with lorna whilst she’s in a hostile mood however Remy always seemed to break that rule so why not do it now in emergency hours?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are yo’ okay?” He honestly asks, looking back over to her. He watches as her posture slouches, her eyes buzzing round like they’re thinking of anywhere else to look but him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course I’m fine I’m more concerned about my brother.” She slowly responds, a pained expression morphing onto her face. “I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did— I was upset, yes, but only because I felt angry with myself that he couldn’t confide in me. But then–<em> and don’t interrupt</em> –I calmed down, knew how selfish it was of me to not show I’m happy for him, and that I shouldn’t have gotten upset.” She explains swiftly, nails trailing deeply into her wrists as she speaks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Remy understood what Lorna was saying; he understood crystal clear. Like her brother, she takes things personally to a new extreme and cannot fully function properly when there are drastic changes made. He nods in understanding, going to speak himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Here’s Remy’s own ‘peace offering’– I’m so sorry dat yo’ felt dat way an’ yo’ shouldn’t ever blame yourself. You’re a brilliant sister an’ Pietro thinks de world of yo’ an’</span>
  <span> trusts yo’ wit’ everythin’. <em><strong>He loves yo</strong></em>’.” Gambit emphasises, looking directly in the eyes of his teammate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her eyes grow narrower, her green curls swaying around as she shakes her head. “<em><strong>Dont</strong></em>. Neither of you should apologise. That’s on me.” Lorna submits strongly, her back straightening out as though she was awaiting a lecture from Xavier himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He inclines his head in defeat, sighing, “Alright then… I’m guessing we’re still on the team?” He humorlessly adds, poking an eyebrow up at her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lorna rolls her eyes, irritation heavily laced with amusement as she spoke, “There was <em><strong>never</strong></em> any doubt about that…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They grow quiet, the only sound vibrating through the room being the over working fridge and the statically humming tv that silently played in the dimly lit room. The female mutant halts their silence once more. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I need to speak to Pietro...Where is he?” Lorna questions delicately. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“His room, I think he needed some familiarity.” Remy replies. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lorna nods. Instantaneously, she moves away from the bar stool and begins making her way towards the door connecting them to the corridor of bedrooms and suites for the Serval Industries members. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Turning around, the emerald eyed woman smiles. “It might sound odd to you, or maybe not, but I can see why you two would work. You’re both like a lock and key; perfectly fitting together though how different you are. My brother has been happier lately, therefore I’m glad you make my him happy and more how he used to be. Also, you behave much better than before so I suppose there are benefits to this ‘partnership’ too.” Lorna admits. Without awaiting a response from Remy, she strides through the doorway and faintly lets the door close with a metallic </span>
  <b>
    <em>click!</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eyes maneuvering back over to his five a day french landmark, Remy pokes at an apple, allowing the rest of the tower to fall in dainty thumps against the breakfast bars marble surface. Things would be okay between the two Magnus children. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span><em>They’re Lorna &amp; Pietro</em>; <em><strong>and they always will be.</strong></em></span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>Slumping through the corridors tiredly towards the kitchen where the team usually commutes to half way through the morning, the thief of the team has his senses bombarded with fizzling foods that must of been splayed onto a frying pan as well as the growing sounds of laughter and conversations escaping from the kitchen. </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wrapping his robe over the rest of his chest, tying a tight little knot just beside his hip, he enters the communal area and instantly feels a smile fall upon his face at the familiar and warm sight in front of him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lorna Dane with her green curls happily bouncing and contouring around her face as she manoeuvres just as ecstatically, making her way around the kitchen appliances, using her powers to move things instantaneously without a beat going by. All the while, Pietro Maximoff is agilely shifting around obstacles as he lays out the sizzling perfectly cooked food around the dining room table. Returning back to the kitchen, the speedster is brought to a sudden halt as his sister tactically grasps onto his speeding arm, as though the momentum from her brother and stopping him was simply second nature to her; something that had grown to be specific, practiced and perfectly timed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Promptly, Lorna brings her brother in a large embrace &amp; just as welcoming as the mistress of magnetism was, Pietro engulfs her frame just as eagerly, burying his head into familiarly kind curls. The two sway for almost ten seconds, Lorna bathing in the hug from her brother knowing that she would never be abandoned by him; Pietro with a void of no regret knowing that these slowly seconds passing were all worth it as he seeks comfort from his sister. The two pull away and like clock work, go back to their chores. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gambit, all the while, makes his way to his usual placement at the table where Doug sat beside his right. He directly throws Remy a look of relief. “So, we don’t have to pretend that you and Pietro aren’t involved?” He remarks thankfully in a low voice. Remy nods in response, beginning to devour his own food, “Nope, yo’ can let out dat’ breath now.” He jokingly says, watching as the other does in fact let out a deep breath as though it had been laying dormant throughout these four months. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Warlock, who had been sitting on Doug’s other side, mimicked his best friend's relief, though the robot did not actually have any lungs to breathe out per say. “Self is very happy that self friend and self was right in their calculations. Self and self friend found this saga very amusing but terribly draining. Self thinks he prefers hunger games to this situation– self believes the risk of harm was lower in the games.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Remy let’s out an amused laugh, nodding along to Warlock’s admission. “I think yo’ are right.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Doug rolls his eyes at the two, continuing to eat his food though much more relaxed than in recent months. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Soon enough, the two Magnus children join the rest of the team in harmony. The group converse about different current matters in the press and other private dramas surrounding their friends but not themselves. He could tell how Pietro was relieved to find this a new rule at the table as he unwinds beside him on his left. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He catches his team leaders eye from the head of the table. Lorna merely smiles over at Remy and happily, he smiles back too. Turning back to the rest of the table, her smile widens. “I’m glad we have no more secrets and that we all know we can tell each other anything. After all, we are family.” She calls out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Remy nods along, lifting up his glass of orange juice half jokingly, “Agreed. T’ family.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rest of the table moves in sync, responding with laughter and echoes of his gesture. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shuffling abruptly breaks though their stress free morning as two sets of pyjamas clad figures stand within the doorway. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Both Luna and Georgia tilt their heads together, wearing the same look of interest and confusion. “What secret are you guys on about?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Turning directly to look at Pietro, the two share a look of equal amusement &amp; nervousness as their eyes simultaneously read the same ‘Here we go’.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pietro, however shockingly, is the one to answer first in an honest manner. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, there’s been a few changes that we need to talk about…”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>It’s been a rough two months into this year and I can’t find the energy to update let alone write. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and are having a brilliant end to the week :3</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>And there goes chapter one. I don’t know when I’ll update next but hopefully soon.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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